I have always fondly remembered a remark that I heard fall years ago from the lips of Ivan Turgenev in regard to his own experience of the usual origin of the fictive picture. It began for him almost always with the vision of some person or persons, who hovered before him, soliciting him, as the active or passive figure, interesting him and appealing to him just as they were and by what they were. He saw them, in that fashion, as disponibles, saw them subject to the chances, the complications of existence, and saw them vividly, but then had to find for them the right relations, those that would most bring them out; to imagine, to invent and select and piece together the situations most useful and favorable to the sense of the creatures themselves, the complications they would be most likely to produce and to feel. "To arrive at these things is to arrive at my 'story, '" he said, "and that's the way I look for it. The result is that I'm often accused of not having 'story' enough. I seem to myself to have as much as I need -- to show my people, to exhibit their relations with each other; for that is all my measure. If I watch them long enough I see them come together, I see them PLACED, I see them engaged in this or that act and in this or that difficulty. How they look and move and speak and behave, always in the setting I have found for them, is my account of them -- of which I dare say, alas, QUE CELA MANQUE SOUVENT D'ARCHITECTURE. But I would rather, I think, have too little architecture than too much -- when there's danger of its interfering with my measure of the truth. The French of course like more of it than I give -- having by their own genius such a hand for it; and indeed onemust give all one can. As for the origin of one's wind-blown germs themselves, who shall say, as you ask, where THEY come from?" -- Henry James
I suddenly found myself sobbing like a baby after reading this novel, as if I myself had confronted that tragic destiny of Isabel. It’s said that a novel is in its broadest sense a personal, a direct impression of life. When we read between the lines, we a...
评分I suddenly found myself sobbing like a baby after reading this novel, as if I myself had confronted that tragic destiny of Isabel. It’s said that a novel is in its broadest sense a personal, a direct impression of life. When we read between the lines, we a...
评分 评分看完了书,把坎皮恩的同名电影找出来重看了一遍,有趣的是导演在处理女主角和奥斯蒙德的恋情上突出了性的吸引,后者将女儿抱在腿上,手指抚摸女儿的手背给了女主很大的刺激,这是个很好玩的视角,因为原著给我的感觉完全是反的,不远万里随君行的美国追求者反而最有男子气概,...
评分《一位女士的画像》这本书并不在我的阅读计划中。亨利·詹姆斯虽然鼎鼎大名,但我只是知道他写过《小说的艺术》。(另一个例子是E·M·福斯特,同样鼎鼎大名,写过《小说面面观》。) 读了序言之后,虽然不觉得怎么样,但还是决定把它读完。厚达700页的书,却清新流畅,可以一...