R*****d
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joycee (买买提头号女魔头) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:12:59 2010, 美东) 提到:
是爱伦.波，是柯南道尔，还是更古老的?
此外阿加沙.克里斯帝大家感觉如何? 为何要把伯罗设定为比利时人?
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zhangrenjunz (正人君子) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:15:25 2010, 美东) 提到:
中国民间文艺工作者，作品：包公案，施工案...
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StationCC (Test) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:16:47 2010, 美东) 提到:
三侠五义？
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joycee (买买提头号女魔头) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:17:16 2010, 美东) 提到:
这个算纪实吧，不是小说
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zhangrenjunz (正人君子) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:19:32 2010, 美东) 提到:
者还纪实？？那就是最早的侦探小说
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zhangrenjunz (正人君子) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:20:12 2010, 美东) 提到:
爱伦坡是恐怖小说之祖
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joycee (买买提头号女魔头) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:20:51 2010, 美东) 提到:
嗯，也写过侦探了，不过很乏味
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joycee (买买提头号女魔头) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:28:39 2010, 美东) 提到:
好像美国人知道这首诗的不少
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFy7XidbnKw
The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."
[show]
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered— not a feather then he fluttered —
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never — nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent
thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by horror haunted— tell me truly, I implore —
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting —
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!— quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — nevermore!
—Edgar Allan Poe
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zhangrenjunz (正人君子) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:35:14 2010, 美东) 提到:
我比较喜欢爱伦坡这种风格。其实那也是西方传统里就有的darkness,blackess的文化
，black metal就是这种深入骨髓的darkness
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zhangrenjunz (正人君子) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:37:29 2010, 美东) 提到:
而中国就没有这种darkness的传统，最接近的就是贾岛的诗，但那也是更像荒凉：像
怪禽啼旷野，落日恐行人 这种
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joycee (买买提头号女魔头) 于 (Thu Nov 4 16:48:58 2010, 美东) 提到:
还是重金属更耐听一点，可惜美国更流行的是RAP
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ermite (ermite) 于 (Thu Nov 4 17:58:13 2010, 美东) 提到:
Baltimore的足球队不就叫 Ravens么，由这个诗来的
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ermite (ermite) 于 (Thu Nov 4 18:04:20 2010, 美东) 提到:
侦探小说是中文的说法，其实翻译得一直有问题，
英文是Mystery，应该叫神秘小说或者解谜小说
这个Mystery的基调是爱伦·坡奠定的，其实之前之后都有一些类似风格的小说
有名的像白衣女人和月亮宝石，还有其他国家的一些不太有名的小说
然后柯南道尔做了集大成者，真正将Mystery这个文学形式发扬光大
这才影响到了19世纪末20世纪初大量通俗作家创作Mystery的热潮
克里斯蒂便是这批人中的佼佼者
两次世界大战以及经济大萧条客观上推动了Mystery的发展
但也导致了它的式微，二战之后Mystery虽仍长期以独立的文学形式存在
但已经无法在通俗文学中占有非常重要的地位了 |
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