艾略特《荒原》

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艾略特《荒原》解析

艾略特《荒原》解析

艾略特《荒原》解析在英国仍以“⽇不落帝国”⾃居之时,艾略特就独具慧眼地谱写了西⽅世界现代精神⽂明的“悲怆奏鸣曲”——《荒原》,他多视域、多层次地展现了⼀战后西⽅⼴阔的社会⽣活。

托马斯·斯特尔那斯·艾略特诗⼈将饱经战争蹂躏、哀鸿遍野的欧洲⼤陆,描绘成⼀⽚乌云蔽⽇、空⽓窒息、⽣命之⽔枯竭、情欲之⽕燃烧的⼴漠荒原,充斥着⼀个个死魂灵般的⿁魅世界:不仅是满⽬疮痍的现实社会的荒原,更是⼈们⼼⽬中的荒原,⼀座牧场。

《荒原》不仅是他本⼈,更是欧洲⼀战后普遍存在的悲观失落、迷惘空虚的异化社会情绪和异化社会⼼理的浓缩,表现出整整⼀代⼈对西⽅现状敌视沮丧情绪的极点。

01 诗歌结构:犹如⼀曲西⽅社会送殡的挽歌《荒原》全长432⾏,艾略特把浩繁的现代⽣活安放在远古神话提供的框架⾥,将长诗分为《死者葬仪》、《对弈》、《⽕诫》、《⽔⾥的死亡》、《雷霆的话》五章,颇似贝多芬晚期创作的五乐章钢琴奏鸣曲形式,最著名的如《悲怆奏鸣曲》,相对独⽴⼜彼此呼应,低回哀怨,恰似⼀曲西⽅社会送殡的挽歌。

《荒原》各章长短不⼀、节奏、重⼼、场景、说话⼈物各不相同,但⼜统⼀在总标题下;“圣杯传奇”与诗的布局,像⼀对⼀明⼀暗的平⾏结构,使⽆序的外表下呈现出潜存的秩序,内在结构完整⽽严谨,形成⼀部浑然⼀体的钢琴奏鸣曲。

由于《荒原》不是叙事,⽽是以各种互不关联的戏剧性场⾯组成的主题变奏曲,诗中没有完整的圣杯故事,却处处有投影。

诗歌中每⼀暗⽰性形象都可构成⼀连串感性和理性的复合联想,使其隐喻的意象极具张⼒,为《荒原》提供了总体结构和象征语⾔,这就使《荒原》从⼀般的内容中突破出来,产⽣出与众不同的特殊效果,具有极强的历史穿透⼒与暗⽰⼒:赎救现代西⽅⽂明的衰落,只能期盼中世纪传说中圣杯神⼒的显现。

⽽且,艾略特在《荒原》的神话创意中,不仅把意义装载⼊全诗表述、圣杯隐现这⼀对明暗平⾏结构,⽽且把作品构织成⼀个由意象组成的表层结构、和⼀个由神话原型组成的深层结构,并通过原型的零乱破碎的提⽰,让读者掘出意象表层之下的真正含义。

荒原原文

荒原原文

艾略特《荒原The Waste Land.》(原文)作者: T.S. Eliot (1888–1965). The Waste Land. 1922.The Waste LandI. THE BURIAL OF THE DEADAPRIL is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain.Winter kept us warm, covering 5Earth in forgetful snow, feedingA little life with dried tubers.Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch. And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 15Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.In the mountains, there you feel free.I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 20You cannot say, or guess, for you know onlyA heap of broken images, where the sun beats,And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,And the dry stone no sound of water. OnlyThere is shadow under this red rock, 25(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind youOr your shadow at evening rising to meet you;I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 30Frisch weht der WindDer Heimat zu.Mein Irisch Kind,Wo weilest du?'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 35'They called me the hyacinth girl.'—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Od' und leer das Meer.Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,Had a bad cold, neverthelessIs known to be the wisest woman in Europe, 45With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,The lady of situations. 50Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,Which I am forbidden to see. I do not findThe Hanged Man. Fear death by water. 55I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:One must be so careful these days.Unreal City, 60Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,I had not thought death had undone so many.Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. 65Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hoursWith a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson! 'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 70'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 75'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!' II. A GAME OF CHESSTHE Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,Glowed on the marble, where the glassHeld up by standards wrought with fruited vinesFrom which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra Reflecting light upon the table asThe glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,From satin cases poured in rich profusion; 85In vials of ivory and coloured glassUnstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes, Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confusedAnd drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the airThat freshened from the window, these ascended 90In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,Flung their smoke into the laquearia,Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.Huge sea-wood fed with copperBurned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, 95 In which sad light a carvèd dolphin swam.Above the antique mantel was displayedAs though a window gave upon the sylvan sceneThe change of Philomel, by the barbarous kingSo rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100Filled all the desert with inviolable voiceAnd still she cried, and still the world pursues,'Jug Jug' to dirty ears.And other withered stumps of timeWere told upon the walls; staring forms 105Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed. Footsteps shuffled on the stair.Under the firelight, under the brush, her hairSpread out in fiery pointsGlowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?'I never know what you are thinking. Think.'I think we are in rats' alley 115Where the dead men lost their bones.'What is that noise?'The wind under the door.'What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?' Nothing again nothing. 120'Do'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember 'Nothing?'I rememberThose are pearls that were his eyes. 125'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?'ButO O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—It's so elegantSo intelligent 130'What shall I do now? What shall I do?''I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street'With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?'What shall we ever do?'The hot water at ten. 135And if it rains, a closed car at four.And we shall play a game of chess,Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door. When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said—I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMENow Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, 145He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said.Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said. 150Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look. HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEIf you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.Others can pick and choose if you can't.But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling. 155You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.(And her only thirty-one.)I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160 The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same. You are a proper fool, I said.Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,What you get married for if you don't want children?HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME 165Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEHURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIMEGoonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night. III. THE FIRE SERMONTHE river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leafClutch and sink into the wet bank. The windCrosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. 175 Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette endsOr other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; 180 Departed, have left no addresses.By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept...Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.But at my back in a cold blast I hear 185The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.A rat crept softly through the vegetationDragging its slimy belly on the bankWhile I was fishing in the dull canalOn a winter evening round behind the gashouse 190Musing upon the king my brother's wreckAnd on the king my father's death before him.White bodies naked on the low damp groundAnd bones cast in a little low dry garret,Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year. 195But at my back from time to time I hearThe sound of horns and motors, which shall bringSweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.O the moon shone bright on Mrs. PorterAnd on her daughter 200They wash their feet in soda waterEt, O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!Twit twit twitJug jug jug jug jug jugSo rudely forc'd. 205TereuUnreal CityUnder the brown fog of a winter noonMr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchantUnshaven, with a pocket full of currants 210C.i.f. London: documents at sight,Asked me in demotic FrenchTo luncheon at the Cannon Street HotelFollowed by a weekend at the Metropole.At the violet hour, when the eyes and back 215Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting,I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can seeAt the violet hour, the evening hour that strives 220 Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lightsHer stove, and lays out food in tins.Out of the window perilously spreadHer drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays, 225 On the divan are piled (at night her bed)Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest—I too awaited the expected guest. 230He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare, One of the low on whom assurance sitsAs a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.The time is now propitious, as he guesses, 235 The meal is ended, she is bored and tired, Endeavours to engage her in caressesWhich still are unreproved, if undesired. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defence; 240His vanity requires no response,And makes a welcome of indifference.(And I Tiresias have foresuffered allEnacted on this same divan or bed;I who have sat by Thebes below the wall 245 And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows on final patronising kiss,And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit... She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover; 250Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: 'Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.' When lovely woman stoops to folly andPaces about her room again, alone,She smoothes her hair with automatic hand, 255 And puts a record on the gramophone.'This music crept by me upon the waters'And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.O City city, I can sometimes hearBeside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260 The pleasant whining of a mandolineAnd a clatter and a chatter from withinWhere fishmen lounge at noon: where the wallsOf Magnus Martyr holdInexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. 265 The river sweatsOil and tarThe barges driftWith the turning tideRed sails 270WideTo leeward, swing on the heavy spar.The barges washDrifting logsDown Greenwich reach 275Past the Isle of Dogs.Weialala leiaWallala leialalaElizabeth and LeicesterBeating oars 280The stern was formedA gilded shellRed and goldThe brisk swellRippled both shores 285Southwest windCarried down streamThe peal of bellsWhite towersWeialala leia 290Wallala leialala'Trams and dusty trees.Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.' 295'My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart Under my feet. After the eventHe wept. He promised "a new start".I made no comment. What should I resent?''On Margate Sands. 300I can connectNothing with nothing.The broken fingernails of dirty hands.My people humble people who expect Nothing.' 305la laTo Carthage then I cameBurning burning burning burningO Lord Thou pluckest me outO Lord Thou pluckest 310burningIV. DEATH BY WATERPHLEBAS the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell And the profit and loss.A current under sea 315Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fellHe passed the stages of his age and youthEntering the whirlpool.Gentile or JewO you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320 Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAIDAFTER the torchlight red on sweaty facesAfter the frosty silence in the gardensAfter the agony in stony placesThe shouting and the crying 325Prison and place and reverberationOf thunder of spring over distant mountainsHe who was living is now deadWe who were living are now dyingWith a little patience 330Here is no water but only rockRock and no water and the sandy roadThe road winding above among the mountainsWhich are mountains of rock without waterIf there were water we should stop and drink 335 Amongst the rock one cannot stop or thinkSweat is dry and feet are in the sandIf there were only water amongst the rockDead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340There is not even silence in the mountainsBut dry sterile thunder without rainThere is not even solitude in the mountainsBut red sullen faces sneer and snarlFrom doors of mudcracked housesIf there were water 345And no rockIf there were rockAnd also waterAnd waterA spring 350A pool among the rockIf there were the sound of water onlyNot the cicadaAnd dry grass singingBut sound of water over a rock 355Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees Drip drop drip drop drop drop dropBut there is no waterWho is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together 360 But when I look ahead up the white roadThere is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hoodedI do not know whether a man or a woman—But who is that on the other side of you? 365 What is that sound high in the airMurmur of maternal lamentationWho are those hooded hordes swarmingOver endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth Ringed by the flat horizon only 370What is the city over the mountainsCracks and reforms and bursts in the violet airFalling towersJerusalem Athens AlexandriaVienna London 375UnrealA woman drew her long black hair out tightAnd fiddled whisper music on those stringsAnd bats with baby faces in the violet lightWhistled, and beat their wings 380And crawled head downward down a blackened wallAnd upside down in air were towersTolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hoursAnd voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells. In this decayed hole among the mountains 385In the faint moonlight, the grass is singingOver the tumbled graves, about the chapelThere is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.It has no windows, and the door swings,Dry bones can harm no one. 390Only a cock stood on the rooftreeCo co rico co co ricoIn a flash of lightning. Then a damp gustBringing rainGanga was sunken, and the limp leaves 395Waited for rain, while the black cloudsGathered far distant, over Himavant.The jungle crouched, humped in silence.Then spoke the thunderD A 400Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment's surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existed 405Which is not to be found in our obituariesOr in memories draped by the beneficent spiderOr under seals broken by the lean solicitorIn our empty roomsD A 410Dayadhvam: I have heard the keyTurn in the door once and turn once onlyWe think of the key, each in his prisonThinking of the key, each confirms a prisonOnly at nightfall, aetherial rumours 415Revive for a moment a broken CoriolanusD ADamyata: The boat respondedGaily, to the hand expert with sail and oarThe sea was calm, your heart would have responded 420 Gaily, when invited, beating obedientTo controlling handsI sat upon the shoreFishing, with the arid plain behind meShall I at least set my lands in order? 425London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affinaQuando fiam ceu chelidon—O swallow swallowLe Prince d'Aquitaine à la tour abolieThese fragments I have shored against my ruins 430Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe. Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.Shantih shantih shantih。

外国文学经典作品解读——艾略特:《荒原》

外国文学经典作品解读——艾略特:《荒原》

外国文学经典作品解读——艾略特:《荒原》内容梗概全诗由5章构成。

第1章《死者葬仪》,标题出自英国教会出葬仪式。

死亡是这一章的主题。

诗歌在含混的意识中开场。

四月是残酷的季节,以记忆和欲望折磨着人们。

在玛丽的回忆中浮现出往昔的静好岁月,而如今面目全非:树已枯死,偶像已破碎,焦石间没有流水的声音,大地一片荒凉。

女相士也为此感到困惑,她用纸牌给人算命,得到了死亡的预言,因为她找不到那被绞死的人耶稣,于是人注定无法获得救赎。

在冬日破晓的黄雾下,人群涌过伦敦桥,死亡已经毁坏了他们。

我想知道,复活是否为时不远?第2章《对弈》,标题出自英国剧作家托马斯密德尔顿的同名剧作,本是一个淫乱故事,诗人取其意喻指现代人的道德堕落。

此章分两个场景。

在富丽堂皇的卧室里,一位上流社会的无聊贵妇正在胡思乱想,她渴望所谓的传奇爱情,以为传说中的翡绿眉拉就是一个典型,而这却是一个因淫乱而复仇的悲剧。

下一场景,在低等酒馆里,丽儿和女伴谈着私情、堕胎,如何对付退伍归来的丈夫。

两个地位不同的女性代表了社会普遍的堕落风气。

第3章《火戒》,标题出自佛教教义。

火有双重含义:是情欲之火,也是使人再生的净化之火。

这章以神话中具有穿透人内心力量的双性人帖瑞西士的视角来观察,发现可爱的泰晤士河畔已经不见了仙女的踪影,只看见公寓里一个女打字员和一个长疙瘩的青年有欲无爱的交合。

不可救药的精神颓败。

再生似乎已无希望。

第4章《水里的死亡》,水亦指泛滥的情欲。

女相士预言的腓尼基人之死在此章获得应验。

他是在欲望和金钱的漩涡中丧生的现代人的象征。

第5章《雷霆的话》充分展开了探索的主题。

诗人再次描绘了一幅荒原的景象:大地荒废,布满岩石,找不到一滴水。

水在这里被赋予再生的含义。

荒原通过三个意象展现:耶稣复活后去埃摩司的途中,而门徒看不见他的身影;寻找圣杯的武士走向空无一人的教堂;鱼王坐在岸上垂钓,背后是那干旱的荒原。

荒原是否能恢复生机?人能否获得拯救?一切都未知。

在雷霆同情,克制,平安的告诫中,诗歌结束。

读书笔记-英国诗人托马斯-斯特恩斯-艾略特名作《荒原》赏析

读书笔记-英国诗人托马斯-斯特恩斯-艾略特名作《荒原》赏析

英国诗人托马斯•斯特恩斯▪艾略特名作《荒原》赏析托马斯•斯特恩斯▪艾略特,英国诗人、剧作家、文学评论家,诗歌现代派运动领袖。

他出生于美国密苏里州的圣路易斯,父亲经商,母亲在师范学院任教,家境富足而文化气息浓厚。

1914年,从哈佛大学毕业的艾略特与诗人庞德相识并且结为好友。

1922年,艾略特发表《荒原》,该作被评论界看作是20世纪最有影响力的一部诗作。

读诗,本来就没有标准答案。

同一首诗,不同的读者往往能够读出不同的感觉和味道。

读到《荒原》时,许多人都深受震撼。

《荒原》这首诗共计433行,由“死者的葬礼、弈棋、火诫、死在水里、雷霆说的话”5部分组成,为读者展现了一幅充斥着混乱与虚无、生存与毁灭、希望与绝望的世界图景。

在笔者看来,该诗仅仅是个人的、完全无足轻重的、对生活不满的发泄。

全作涉及大量神话、宗教传说和文学典故,艾略特将一个个意象、场面、对话片断、自然风光等叠加在一起,有意打破原有的秩序,使各种元素发生新的化学反应,从而形成一种疏离感、新奇感和生涩感。

通过《荒原》,我们得以感受艾略特诗作的特点和风格。

艾略特的诗歌,通过无拘无束的想象、令人眼花缭乱的意象以及跳跃飞腾的节律,昭示了时代和世界的荒诞无序。

如果读者力求找到诗行之间的确定性联系,往往会无功而返,且会在作者选取的随机性意象面前晕头转向。

在看似繁华光鲜、朝气蓬勃的时代里,艾略特凭借着诗人独有的敏锐气息,捕捉到光明背后的混乱、无序和腐坏。

有人认为艾略特的诗歌太过跳跃、繁杂、不拘一格、令人摸不着头脑,但他恰恰是以诗歌的独特节奏来昭示现代世界中的琐屑与阴晦。

大概每个人这一生都至少有那么一次,猛然意识到自己生活在空无一物的荒原之上,有种无所凭依的恐慌和无助。

绝望过、孤独过、期待过,甚至直面过死亡,感到不论做什么事情都无比空虚、毫无生气。

但是,冥冥之中似乎又有什么在这片荒原之下蠢蠢欲动,从天空中传来雷鸣,在大地深处暗自积蓄着某种力量。

清醒的认知和敏锐的洞察力,让艾略特感悟到了身处荒原一般的冷酷和无力,而他也将这种感受记录了下来,直击人们柔软的内心。

在我的结束是我的开始--对艾略特《荒原》生死主题的探析

在我的结束是我的开始--对艾略特《荒原》生死主题的探析

在我的结束是我的开始--对艾略特《荒原》生死主题的探析
《荒原》是托马斯·斯特恩斯·艾略特的一部具有划时代意义的佳作,全诗描写了身处西方现代文明中人们精神上和肉体上的生与死。

从诗篇开始时提出死亡命题,接着以神话框架为主体对新生意义加以探寻,最后在长诗的末尾处升华死亡之后的新生主题,给人以无限的新生命,新未来的希望。

基于此,本文将从这三个方面对《荒原》文本进行分析,以期揭示出艾略特本着"在我的结束是我的开始"核心观念的生死旨意。

《荒原》艾略特

《荒原》艾略特

来的正是时机,他猜对了, 晚饭吃过,她厌腻而懒散, 他试着动手动脚上去温存, 虽然没受欢迎,也没有被责备。 兴奋而坚定,他立刻进攻, 探索的手没有遇到抗拒, 他的虚荣心也不需要反应, 冷漠对他等于是欢迎。 最后给了她恩赐的一吻, 探索着走出去,楼梯也没个灯亮——
她回头对镜照了一下, 全没想到还有那个离去的情人; 心里模糊地闪过一个念头: “那桩事总算完了;我很高兴。” 当美人做了失足的蠢事; 而又在屋中来回踱着,孤独地, 她机械地用手理了理头发, 并拿一张唱片放在留声机上。
们在 问她:西比尔,你要什么的时候,她回答说,我要死。”)
For Ezra Pound
il miglior fabbro. (献给埃兹拉 庞德 最卓越的匠人)
根据希腊神话,古米的西比尔是女预言家, 曾爱过她的太阳神阿波罗施予她预言的能力, 但她忘记向太阳神要永恒的青春和健康。她被 关在瓶中枯而不死,承受着巨大的精神痛苦。
艾略特没有在《荒原》中表达小我所体验的种 种感受,而是客观冷静地展示了一个精神迷失的黑 暗而痛苦的时代,这首诗对战后的失望心情、精神 空虚和无政府状况作出了权威的表现,这一代人辨 认出属于自己的景象。
这首诗不属于一个人,而属于现代的城市,属 于战后的世界。
1、结构内容
全诗只分五章,四百余行,诗人立意 借用“寻找圣杯”的故事表现卑劣猥琐的 “人间地狱”。呈现在读者面前的是:贫 瘠的荒原,冰冷的岩石,灰暗的城市,阴 森的监狱和行迹猥琐的醉生梦死的人们。 在这个荒唐的世界里,没有偶像的崇拜, 没有言行的准则,只有生活的空虚和精神 的绝望。
谢谢观看!
“当美人做了失足的蠢事, 发现男人的负心已经晚了, 什么魔符才能使她消愁, 怎样才能把她的污点洗掉, 唯一的妙法既为她文饰, 又在众目下使她躲过羞耻, 还能为她的恋人带来悔恨, 绞得他心疼——那就是,去死!”

论艾略特《荒原》的反思意识

论艾略特《荒原》的反思意识

论艾略特《荒原》的反思意识艾略特是20世纪最重要的诗人之一,他的作品《荒原》是他最具影响力的作品之一。

这首诗以其深刻的思想和对当代社会的反思而闻名,尤其是对现代社会的空虚和精神困境提出了一种深刻的反思。

艾略特的《荒原》对现代社会的反思意识非常深刻,这首诗的精神内涵对我们今天的社会仍然有着重要的启示意义。

艾略特的《荒原》是一首充满了对现代生活的批判和反思的诗歌。

艾略特在诗中描绘了一个充满荒凉和绝望的现代社会,他认为现代社会已经失去了宗教信仰和道德价值观,导致了人们精神上的空虚和困惑。

在《荒原》中,艾略特描绘了现代社会的麻木和冷漠,以及人们对传统价值观的放弃和迷失。

这种现代社会的精神困境和荒芜状况让艾略特深感不安,他通过诗歌表达了对这种现状的深刻关注和反思,展现了一种强烈的反思意识。

艾略特的反思意识体现在他对现代社会的批判和警示之中。

他通过对人们精神空虚和道德沦丧的描写,揭示了现代社会的真实面貌,呼吁人们重新审视自己的生活方式和价值取向。

他在诗中对社会的冷漠和麻木提出了质疑,并通过对精神寂静和信仰缺失的描述,表达了对现代社会的深刻忧虑。

艾略特希望通过自己的诗歌唤醒人们对现实的思考,引发人们对社会生活的深刻反思,从而改变现状,重建价值观和道德规范。

在《荒原》中,艾略特通过对现代社会的描绘和批判,表达了对传统价值观和信仰的追求。

他强调了对人类精神世界的重视,希望人们能够重拾对宗教和道德的信仰,重新建立起自己的精神世界。

艾略特认为现代社会的精神荒漠和迷失不仅仅是一种社会问题,更是一种对人类本质的忽视和背离。

他希望通过自己的诗歌激发人们对精神世界的关注和追求,让人们从物质生活中解脱出来,寻求内心的宁静和满足。

艾略特的《荒原》对现代社会的反思意识在今天依然具有重要的现实意义。

现代社会依然存在着道德沦丧和价值观模糊的问题,人们的精神追求和内心满足依然面临着挑战和困扰。

艾略特的诗歌不仅是对现代社会的一次深刻反思,更是对人类精神世界的一次呼唤和感召。

荒原艾略特原文及解读

荒原艾略特原文及解读

荒原艾略特原文及解读荒原艾略特是美国诗人T.S.艾略特的代表作之一,该诗以其复杂的结构、深刻的哲学思考和充满象征意味的语言而闻名于世。

原文如下:We are the hollow menWe are the stuffed menLeaning togetherHeadpiece filled with straw. Alas!Our dried voices, whenWe whisper togetherAre quiet and meaninglessAs wind in dry grassOr rats" feet over broken glassIn our dry cellarShape without form, shade without colour,Paralysed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossedWith direct eyes, to death"s other KingdomRemember us--if at all--not as lostViolent souls, but onlyAs the hollow menThe stuffed men.解读:诗歌的第一部分,描绘了一个群体——“空洞的人”,他们没有灵魂,只有外壳。

他们被填充,但内心却是空洞的,仿佛一具用稻草填充的人偶。

他们倚靠在一起,带着用稻草填充的头盔,在沙漠般的环境中,他们枯干的声音相互耳语,却毫无意义。

第二部分,通过描述这些人物的外在形象来呈现他们的精神状态——他们是形态空洞的,没有色彩的,是一种瘫痪不前的力量,是没有动作的手势。

这里作者使用了“形状没有形式”和“阴影没有颜色”来描绘这些人物,强调他们的虚无和缺乏。

最后一部分,诗人提到那些“以直视死亡王国的目光渡过去”的人,但即使他们在记忆中想起这些“空洞的人”,他们也只会被看作是“空洞的人”,而不是“失落的暴力灵魂”。

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“妖术和美貌 互相结合,再 用淫欲加强它 们的魅力”— —克里奥佩特 拉
伊丽莎白女王
“请快些,时间到了,明儿见毕尔。……明天 见,可爱的太太们,明天见,明天见。” 《荒原》 (男主角与服役军人妻子丽尔勾搭后的告别场 景,暗示现代人在淫乐中寻求慰藉) “来啊,我的马车!——明天见,太太,明天 见,好太太,明天见,明天见。” 《哈姆雷特》 (奥菲利亚自杀前的语无伦次)
“是的,我自己亲自看见古老的西比尔 吊在一个笼子里,孩子们在问她:西比 尔,你要什么的时候,她回答说:我要 死。”
根据希腊神话,古米的西比尔是女预言家,曾爱 过她的太阳神阿波罗施予她预言的能力,但她忘 记向太阳神要永恒的青春和健康。她被关在瓶中
枯而不死,承受着巨大的精神痛苦。
生与死之交替原本是宇宙发展与更新的客观规律,
并无实体的城 在冬日破晓时的黄雾下, 一群人鱼贯地流过伦敦桥, 人数是那么多
我没想到死亡毁了那么多人,
叹息,短促而稀少,吐了出来,
人Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
弗雷泽的《金枝》是 人类历史上最伟大的 著作之一。 弗雷泽比较了多种民 族的宗教仪式,研究 了神话和仪式的基本 模式,指出远古神话 是仪式活动的产物。
《金枝》引用大量材料,说明四季循环与许多有关
神的诞生、死亡、复活的神话以及祭祀仪式有关。
渔王曾是植物神,岁末时人们哀悼他的死亡,春
天大地复苏时庆祝他的复活。
“你不知道的东西是你唯一知道的东西。”
“一首诗实际意味着什么是无关紧要的。意义不过 是扔给读者以分散注意力的肉包子;与此同时, 诗却以更加具体和更加无意识的方式悄然影响读 者”。
在艾略特看来,诗中的意义不过是个骗局,而当 人们不理解这一骗局时,自然是以某种无意识的 方式理解了诗;反之,当人们自以为把握了诗的 意义时,也就是误入圈套而不自知的时候。
后期象征主义诗人认为,自我作为纯精神的存在,
不具有被艺术直接表现的可能,只能通过与之对
应的象征来暗示。
艾略特提出寻找主观感情的“客观对应物”,把 各种情景、事件、典故等搭配成一幅幅图案来表 达某种情绪,引起共鸣。 艾略特认为诗与诗人的个人情绪没有什么关系,
提出诗歌“非个人化”的主张。
《荒原》题词
艾略特《荒原》
“现代派诗歌的里程碑”
艾略特
1948年因“革 新现代诗,功 绩卓著的先 驱”,获诺贝 尔奖文学奖。
叔本华的 “生命意志 论”——极 端悲观主义 生命哲学
全部客观世界都是表象世界,只有意志才是世界 的内在本质。 在五彩缤纷的表象世界的后面有一种意志在控制, 那就是生命的冲动。 生命意志即盲目的、无止境的寻求生存和繁衍的 欲望,这种欲望本身就是痛苦的直接根源;人类 因为会理性思考,痛苦更为显著,最大的痛苦莫 过于意识到自己痛苦。 人若有欲求,必面临痛苦;若无欲求,会陷入无 聊。 摆脱痛苦的唯一方式是禁欲,首先是性欲——生 命意志的最坚决表现。其次是艺术和自杀。
“在艾略特手里,典故是一种技巧,《荒
原》在内涵上相当于一部史诗,没有这种 技巧,就得由12本著作来表达。” ——瑞恰兹
“荒原”指经过了一战的整个欧洲,一切都 崩溃了,城市里只有猥琐的人在过着无生 气的生活,其标志为无爱情的性行为。 诗人认为比战争破坏更严重的是整个文明 社会的毁灭,尤其是宗教信仰的丧失,荒 原最缺的水是人的灵魂里的水。
窗外不牢靠地摊挂着 她晾干的内衣,染着夕阳的残辉, 沙发上(那是她夜间的床)摊着 长袜子、拖鞋、小背心,紧身胸衣, 我,有褶皱乳房的老人阿瑞西斯, 知道这一幕,并且预见了其余的—— 我也在等待那盼望的客人。 他来了,那满脸酒刺的年轻人, 小代理店的办事员,一种大胆的眼神 自得的神气罩着这种下层人, 好象丝绒帽戴在布雷德福爆发户的头上
《坎特伯雷故事集》
当四月的春雨浸透了 三月干裂的土壤, 雨水沐浴着每棵草木根茎,
百花获得了盛开的力量;
第二章《对弈》
那古旧的壁炉架上展现着一幅 犹如开窗所见的田野景物, 那是翡绿眉拉变了形, 遭到了野蛮国王的强暴: 夜莺的神圣不可侵犯的歌声顿时充塞了 整个沙漠, 她还在啼叫, 世界如今还在追逐着, „唧唧’唱给肮脏的耳朵听。
而西比尔违背了这一规律,她虽然实现了永生不
死的愿望,但却生不如死,她对死亡的渴望反映 出她对生存现状的不满与厌倦。
“我坐在岸上
钓鱼,枯干的平原在我的背后”
艾略特在自注中说:“这首诗不仅标题、
构局,而且许多零散的象征都受魏士登女
士论圣杯传说的那本书《从仪式到传奇》 的启发,此书使我得益非浅……在更一般 的意义上,我还得益于另一本人类学著作, 一本深刻地影响了我们这一代的书,我指 的是《金枝》……”。
大战到信仰的丧失再到所谓的“性开放”,
工业化和商业化正在导致人性的扭曲和自
然资源的匮乏,人类的物质进步带来的是
精神的彻底迷失。
由此,艾略特对这一种文明是否有效提出
了疑问,并对所谓理性、文明、自由产生
了反思。 。
“在宗教上是英国国教式的天主教徒,在政 治上是保皇派,在文学上是古典主义者”。 要以宗教和教会为政治和文化中心,通过 教会来管理国家,传播文化,统治人民, 力图用宗教复兴来挽救西方文明,其社会 理想就是宗教救世。
April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.
1922年,德国现代哲学家斯宾格勒发表了 《西方的没落》第二卷,同年10月,艾略 特的《荒原》在《标准》杂志创刊号上亮 相。
这也许是一种巧合,但是正如斯宾格勒 在《西方的没落》中所预言的那样,西方 文化必将走向精神的荒原,艾略特这部长 诗,似乎是对斯宾格勒的回应。
20世纪以来西方发生的种种危机,从世界
艾略特没有在《荒原》中表达小我所体验的种种 感受,而是客观冷静地展示了一个精神迷失的黑 暗而痛苦的时代,这首诗对战后的失望心情、精 神空虚和无政府状况作出了权威的表现,这一代 人辨认出属于自己的景象。 这首诗不属于一个人,而属于现代的城市,属于 战后的世界。
《荒原》是一首带有悲剧看法的诗,但它 也是一个喜剧,一种讽仿,由于突然的切 换,悲剧的色彩变成了插科打诨,既是对 文学的嘲弄又是对文学的表现,感情总是 服从于智力,抒情总是服从于怀疑,每一
“当美人做了失足的蠢事, 发现男人的负心已经晚了, 什么魔符才能使她消愁, 怎样才能把她的污点洗掉, 唯一的妙法既为她文饰, 又在众目下使她躲过羞耻, 还能为她的恋人带来悔恨, 绞得他心疼——那就是,去死!”
在宗教中,性爱总是与繁衍下一代联系在一起。 但荒原人的性行为只是单纯的不计后果的纵欲,
因此脱离了性最重要,也是最根本的目的。
来的正是时机,他猜对了, 晚饭吃过,她厌腻而懒散, 他试着动手动脚上去温存, 虽然没受欢迎,也没有被责备。 兴奋而坚定,他立刻进攻, 探索的手没有遇到抗拒, 他的虚荣心也不需要反应, 冷漠对他等于是欢迎。 最后给了她恩赐的一吻, 探索着走出去,楼梯也没个灯亮——
她回头对镜照了一下, 全没想到还有那个离去的情人; 心里模糊地闪过一个念头: “那桩事总算完了;我很高兴。” 当美人做了失足的蠢事; 而又在屋中来回踱着,孤独地, 她机械地用手理了理头发, 并拿一张唱片放在留声机上。
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
波德莱尔, 法国十九世 纪最著名的 现代派诗人, 象征派诗歌 先驱
爱情丧失之后,性欲是男女之间的疏离对弈: 貌合神离的性伴侣、与繁衍后代无关的情欲泛滥、 混乱的性关系。 空虚而又荒淫无度的荒原人,欲念之火即是罪恶
之源,是社会腐败、道德伦理崩溃的表现。
庸俗而无趣的人生——从上流社会到底层人民无
一幸免。
男权思想
从柏拉图、黑格尔、弗洛伊德到列维-斯特劳斯的 整个西方哲学,都是一种理性主义传统。
章节都在嘲讽和严肃之间构造了它自己的
联系,由此产生了第三种风格,那就是妙
趣横生的现代诗人的风格。
拼贴画的做法,把截然不同的情景并列或
连接,也受电影中蒙太奇的影响,它用各
种零碎的片段表现现代城市的支离破碎,
“我用这些碎片撑住了我的废墟。”
渔王统治的领地因受到诅咒而严重缺水,成为 “荒原”,他本人也受了重伤,失去生育能力。 因而在这里庄稼不能生长,牲畜不能繁殖。 《荒原》一诗的题名就取自这一传说。
第一部分“死者葬仪”
四月是最残忍的一个月,荒地上 长着丁香,把回忆和欲望 掺和在一起,又让春雨 催促那些迟钝的根芽。 冬天使我们温暖,大地 给助人遗忘的雪覆盖着,又叫 干枯的球根提供少许生命。
在这种传统中,女性被定义为非理性,一种需要 和应当被超越的否定性 ,一个被阉割得不完整的 男人。 艾略特更是将这种思想发扬了。
第五部分 雷霆的话
雷霆代表上帝宣言,指出人类拯救 的唯一出路:
舍己为人,同情,克制
全诗总的骨架是欧洲神话中渔王的故事,
强调生死循环中衰老和死亡的阶段。运用
了7种语言和引用56种前人著作。
“在这部残酷 的书中,我注 入了自己的全 部思想,整个 的心(经过改 装的),整个宗 教意识,以及 全部仇恨。”
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