首页 > > > Sister Carrie 英文.pdf

Sister Carrie 英文.pdf

Sister Carrie 英文.pdf

上传者: 591054026 2012-05-14 评分1 评论0 下载47 收藏10 阅读量361 暂无简介 简介 举报

简介:本文档为《Sister Carrie 英文pdf》,可适用于高等教育领域,主题内容包含CoradellaCollegiateBookshelfEditionsSisterCarrieTheodoreDreiserContentsOpe符等。

Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf Editions. Sister Carrie. Theodore Dreiser. C on te nt s Open Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net About the author Theodore Herman Albert Dreiser ( July 27, 1871 - Decem- ber 28, 1945) was an American naturalist author known for deal- ing with the gritty reality of life. Dreiser was born in Sullivan, Indiana. From 1889-1890, he at- tended Indiana University at Bloomington before flunking out. Within a couple of years, he was writing for the Chicago Globe and then the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. In 1892 he married Sara White. Although they separated in 1909, they were never formally divorced. His first novel, Sister Carrie (1900), told the story of a woman who fled her country life for the city (Chicago) and fell into a wayward life of sin. The publisher did little to promote the book, and it sold poorly. Dreiser took a job editing women's magazines until he was forced to resign in 1910 because of an inter-office romance. His second novel, Jennie Gerhardt was published the following year. Many of Dreiser's subsequent novels dealt with social inequality. His first commercial success was An American Tragedy (1925), which was made into a film in 1931 and again in 1951. Other works include the Trilogy of Desire about Frank Cowperwood, a fictionalized version of Charles Yerkes: The Financier (1912), The Titan (1914), and The Stoic (completed posthumously in 1947). In 2001, two of his books, Sister Carrie and An American Tragedy, were named to the list of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th century by the editorial board of the American Modern Library. Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net Contents Click on a number in the chapter list to go to the first page of that chapter. Note: The best way to read this ebook is in Full Screen mode: click View, Full Screen to set Adobe Acrobat to Full Screen View. This mode allows you to use Page Down to go to the next page, and affords the best reading view. Press Escape to exit the Full Screen View. 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. Chapter 25. Chapter 26. Chapter 27. Chapter 28. Chapter 29. Chapter 30. Chapter 31. Chapter 32. Chapter 33. Chapter 34. Chapter 35. Chapter 36. Chapter 37. Chapter 38. Chapter 39. Chapter 40. Chapter 41. Chapter 42. Chapter 43. Chapter 44. Chapter 45. Chapter 46. Chapter 47. Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 1 Sister Carrie. Chapter 1. The magnet attracting: a wife amid forces. When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit consisted of a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel, a small lunch in a paper box, and a yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap of paper with her sister’s address in Van Buren Street, and four dollars in money. It was in August, 1889. She was eigh- teen years of age, bright, timid, and full of the illusions of ignorance and youth. Whatever touch of regret at parting characterised her thoughts, it was certainly not for advantages now being given up. A gush of tears at her mother’s farewell kiss, a touch in her throat when the cars clacked by the flour mill where her father worked by the day, a pathetic sigh as the familiar green environs of the village passed in review, and the NOTICE Copyright 2004 thewritedirection.net Please note that although the text of this ebook is in the public domain, this pdf edition is a copyrighted publication. FOR COMPLETE DETAILS, SEE COLLEGEBOOKSHELF.NET/COPYRIGHTS Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 32 threads which bound her so lightly to girlhood and home were irretrievably broken. To be sure there was always the next station, where one might descend and return. There was the great city, bound more closely by these very trains which came up daily. Co- lumbia City was not so very far away, even once she was in Chicago. What, pray, is a few hours — a few hundred miles? She looked at the little slip bearing her sister’s address and wondered. She gazed at the green landscape, now passing in swift review, until her swifter thoughts replaced its impres- sion with vague conjectures of what Chicago might be. When a girl leaves her home at eighteen, she does one of two things. Either she falls into saving hands and becomes better, or she rapidly assumes the cosmopolitan standard of virtue and becomes worse. Of an intermediate balance, under the circumstances, there is no possibility. The city has its cun- ning wiles, no less than the infinitely smaller and more hu- man tempter. There are large forces which allure with all the soulfulness of expression possible in the most cultured hu- man. The gleam of a thousand lights is often as effective as the persuasive light in a wooing and fascinating eye. Half the undoing of the unsophisticated and natural mind is accom- plished by forces wholly superhuman. A blare of sound, a roar of life, a vast array of human hives, appeal to the aston- ished senses in equivocal terms. Without a counsellor at hand to whisper cautious interpretations, what falsehoods may not these things breathe into the unguarded ear! Unrecognised for what they are, their beauty, like music, too often relaxes, then weakens, then perverts the simpler human perceptions. Caroline, or Sister Carrie, as she had been half affection- ately termed by the family, was possessed of a mind rudimen- tary in its power of observation and analysis. Self-interest with her was high, but not strong. It was, nevertheless, her guiding characteristic. Warm with the fancies of youth, pretty with the insipid prettiness of the formative period, possessed of a figure promising eventual shapeliness and an eye alight with certain native intelligence, she was a fair example of the middle American class — two generations removed from the emigrant. Books were beyond her interest — knowledge a sealed book. In the intuitive graces she was still crude. She could scarcely toss her head gracefully. Her hands were al- most ineffectual. The feet, though small, were set flatly. And yet she was interested in her charms, quick to understand the keener pleasures of life, ambitious to gain in material things. A half-equipped little knight she was, venturing to reconnoi- tre the mysterious city and dreaming wild dreams of some vague, far-off supremacy, which should make it prey and sub- ject — the proper penitent, grovelling at a woman’s slipper. “That,” said a voice in her ear, “is one of the prettiest little resorts in Wisconsin.” “Is it?” she answered nervously. The train was just pulling out of Waukesha. For some Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 54 time she had been conscious of a man behind. She felt him observing her mass of hair. He had been fidgetting, and with natural intuition she felt a certain interest growing in that quarter. Her maidenly reserve, and a certain sense of what was conventional under the circumstances, called her to forestall and deny this familiarity, but the daring and magnetism of the individual, born of past experiences and triumphs, pre- vailed. She answered. He leaned forward to put his elbows upon the back of her seat and proceeded to make himself volubly agreeable. “Yes, that is a great resort for Chicago people. The hotels are swell. You are not familiar with this part of the country, are you?” “Oh, yes, I am,” answered Carrie. “That is, I live at Co- lumbia City. I have never been through here, though.” “And so this is your first visit to Chicago,” he observed. All the time she was conscious of certain features out of the side of her eye. Flush, colourful cheeks, a light mous- tache, a grey fedora hat. She now turned and looked upon him in full, the instincts of self-protection and coquetry min- gling confusedly in her brain. “I didn’t say that,” she said. “Oh,” he answered, in a very pleasing way and with an assumed air of mistake, “I thought you did.” Here was a type of the travelling canvasser for a manufac- turing house — a class which at that time was first being dubbed by the slang of the day “drummers.” He came within the meaning of a still newer term, which had sprung into general use among Americans in 1880, and which concisely expressed the thought of one whose dress or manners are cal- culated to elicit the admiration of susceptible young women — a “masher.” His suit was of a striped and crossed pattern of brown wool, new at that time, but since become familiar as a business suit. The low crotch of the vest revealed a stiff shirt bosom of white and pink stripes. From his coat sleeves pro- truded a pair of linen cuffs of the same pattern, fastened with large, gold plate buttons, set with the common yellow agates known as “cat’s-eyes.” His fingers bore several rings — one, the ever-enduring heavy seal — and from his vest dangled a neat gold watch chain, from which was suspended the secret insignia of the Order of Elks. The whole suit was rather tight- fitting, and was finished off with heavy-soled tan shoes, highly polished, and the grey fedora hat. He was, for the order of intellect represented, attractive, and whatever he had to rec- ommend him, you may be sure was not lost upon Carrie, in this, her first glance. Lest this order of individual should permanently pass, let me put down some of the most striking characteristics of his most successful manner and method. Good clothes, of course, were the first essential, the things without which he was noth- ing. A strong physical nature, actuated by a keen desire for the feminine, was the next. A mind free of any consideration Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 76 of the problems or forces of the world and actuated not by greed, but an insatiable love of variable pleasure. His method was always simple. Its principal element was daring, backed, of course, by an intense desire and admiration for the sex. Let him meet with a young woman once and he would approach her with an air of kindly familiarity, not unmixed with plead- ing, which would result in most cases in a tolerant acceptance. If she showed any tendency to coquetry he would be apt to straighten her tie, or if she “took up” with him at all, to call her by her first name. If he visited a department store it was to lounge familiarly over the counter and ask some leading questions. In more exclusive circles, on the train or in waiting stations, he went slower. If some seemingly vulnerable object appeared he was all attention — to pass the compliments of the day, to lead the way to the parlor car, carrying her grip, or, failing that, to take a seat next her with the hope of being able to court her to her destination. Pillows, books, a footstool, the shade lowered; all these figured in the things which he could do. If, when she reached her destination he did not alight and attend her baggage for her, it was because, in his own estima- tion, he had signally failed. A woman should some day write the complete philosophy of clothes. No matter how young, it is one of the things she wholly comprehends. There is an indescribably faint line in the matter of man’s apparel which somehow divides for her those who are worth glancing at and those who are not. Once an individual has passed this faint line on the way downward he will get no glance from her. There is another line at which the dress of a man will cause her to study her own. This line the individual at her elbow now marked for Carrie. She be- came conscious of an inequality. Her own plain blue dress, with its black cotton tape trimmings, now seemed to her shabby. She felt the worn state of her shoes. “Let’s see,” he went on, “I know quite a number of people in your town. Morgenroth the clothier and Gibson the dry goods man.” “Oh, do you?” she interrupted, aroused by memories of longings their show windows had cost her. At last he had a clew to her interest, and followed it deftly. In a few minutes he had come about into her seat. He talked of sales of clothing, his travels, Chicago, and the amusements of that city. “If you are going there, you will enjoy it immensely. Have you relatives?” “I am going to visit my sister,” she explained. “You want to see Lincoln Park,” he said, “and Michigan Boulevard. They are putting up great buildings there. It’s a second New York — great. So much to see — theatres, crowds, fine houses — oh, you’ll like that.” There was a little ache in her fancy of all he described. Her insignificance in the presence of so much magnificence faintly affected her. She realised that hers was not to be a Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 98 round of pleasure, and yet there was something promising in all the material prospect he set forth. There was something satisfactory in the attention of this individual with his good clothes. She could not help smiling as he told her of some popular actress of whom she reminded him. She was not silly, and yet attention of this sort had its weight. “You will be in Chicago some little time, won’t you?” he observed at one turn of the now easy conversation. “I don’t know,” said Carrie vaguely — a flash vision of the possibility of her not securing employment rising in her mind. “Several weeks, anyhow,” he said, looking steadily into her eyes. There was much more passing now than the mere words indicated. He recognised the indescribable thing that made up for fascination and beauty in her. She realised that she was of interest to him from the one standpoint which a woman both delights in and fears. Her manner was simple, though for the very reason that she had not yet learned the many little affectations with which women conceal their true feel- ings. Some things she did appeared bold. A clever companion — had she ever had one — would have warned her never to look a man in the eyes so steadily. “Why do you ask?” she said. “Well, I’m going to be there several weeks. I’m going to study stock at our place and get new samples. I might show you ‘round.” “I don’t know whether you can or not. I mean I don’t know whether I can. I shall be living with my sister, and — ” “Well, if she minds, we’ll fix that.” He took out his pencil and a little pocket note-book as if it were all settled. “What is your address there?” She fumbled her purse which contained the address slip. He reached down in his hip pocket and took out a fat purse. It was filled with slips of paper, some mileage books, a roll of greenbacks. It impressed her deeply. Such a purse had never been carried by any one attentive to her. Indeed, an experienced traveller, a brisk man of the world, had never come within such close range before. The purse, the shiny tan shoes, the smart new suit, and the air with which he did things, built up for her a dim world of fortune, of which he was the centre. It disposed her pleasantly toward all he might do. He took out a neat business card, on which was engraved Bartlett, Caryoe & Company, and down in the left-hand cor- ner, Chas. H. Drouet. “That’s me,” he said, putting the card in her hand and touching his name. “It’s pronounced Drew-eh. Our family was French, on my father’s side.” She looked at it while he put up his purse. Then he got out a letter from a bunch in his coat pocket. “This is the house I travel for,” he went on, pointing to a picture on it, “corner of State and Lake.” There was pride in his voice. He felt that it was something to be connected with such a place, Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 1110 and he made her feel that way. “What is your address?” he began again, fixing his pencil to write. She looked at his hand. “Carrie Meeber,” she said slowly. “Three hundred and fifty- four West Van Buren Street, care S. C. Hanson.” He wrote it carefully down and got out the purse again. “You’ll be at home if I come around Monday night?” he said. “I think so,” she answered. How true it is that words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining to- gether great inaudible feelings and purposes. Here were these two, bandying little phrases, drawing purses, looking at cards, and both unconscious of how inarticulate all their real feel- ings were. Neither was wise enough to be sure of the working of the mind of the other. He could not tell how his luring succeeded. She could not realise that she was drifting, until he secured her address. Now she felt that she had yielded something — he, that he had gained a victory. Already they felt that they were somehow associated. Already he took con- trol in directing the conversation. His words were easy. Her manner was relaxed. They were nearing Chicago. Signs were everywhere nu- merous. Trains flashed by them. Across wide stretches of flat, open prairie they could see lines of telegraph poles stalking across the fields toward the great city. Far away were indica- tions of suburban towns, some big smokestacks towering high in the air. Frequently there were two-story frame houses standing out in the open fields, without fence or trees, lone outposts of the approaching army of homes. To the child, the genius with imagination, or the wholly untravelled, the approach to a great city for the first time is a wonderful thing. Particularly if it be evening — that mystic period between the glare and gloom of the world when life is changing from one sphere or condition to another. Ah, the promise of the night. What does it not hold for the weary! What old illusion of hope is not here forever repeated! Says the soul of the toiler to itself, “I shall soon be free. I shall be in the ways and the hosts of the merry. The streets, the lamps, the lighted chamber set for dining, are for me. The theatre, the halls, the parties, the ways of rest and the paths of song — these are mine in the night.” Though all humanity be still enclosed in the shops, the thrill runs abroad. It is in the air. The dullest feel something which they may not always ex- press or describe. It is the lifting of the burden of toil. Sister Carrie gazed out of the window. Her companion, affected by her wonder, so contagious are all things, felt anew some interest in the city and pointed out its marvels. “This is Northwest Chicago,” said Drouet. “This is the Chicago River,” and he pointed to a little muddy creek, crowded with the huge masted wanderers from far-off waters Theodore Dreiser. Sister Carrie. C on te nt s Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at http://collegebookshelf.net 1312 nosing the black-posted banks. With a puff, a clang, and a clatter of rails it was gone. “Chicago is getting to be a great town,” he went on. “It’s a wonder. You’ll find lots to see here.” She did not hear this very well. Her heart was troubled by a kind of terror. The fact that she was alone, away from home, rushing into a great sea of life and endeavour, began to tell. She could

该用户的其他资料

用户评论

0/200
    暂无评论
上传我的资料

相关资料

资料评价:

/ 500
所需积分:1 立即下载
返回
顶部
举报
资料
关闭

温馨提示

感谢您对爱问共享资料的支持,精彩活动将尽快为您呈现,敬请期待!