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The Giver (1994 Newbery Medal Winner)《记忆传授者》(1994年纽伯瑞金奖小说) ISBN 9780440237686书籍详细信息
- ISBN：9780440237686
- 作者：暂无作者
- 出版社：暂无出版社
- 出版时间：2002-09
- 页数：暂无页数
- 价格：28.90
- 纸张：胶版纸
- 装帧：平装
- 开本：32开
- 语言：未知
- 丛书：暂无丛书
- TAG：暂无
- 豆瓣评分：暂无豆瓣评分
内容简介：
在一个乌托邦世界里，人们安居乐业，衣食无忧，从无战争或痛苦的感觉。每个人的未来——学习、工作、婚姻、家庭、甚至死亡，都早已被安排好，没有改变的可能，也没有异议。当12岁的乔纳斯被指派担任新的“记忆传授人”，他陡然发现乌托邦背后的谎言与冷漠，并开始逃亡……本书虽无感官刺激，却被公认为能激发阅读兴趣，并能引导孩子思考人生价值，探讨社会形态，以及珍惜拥有的一切。
Jonas's world is perfect. Everything is under control. There is
no war or fear of pain. There are no choices. Every person is
assigned a role in the community. When Jonas turns 12 he is singled
out to receive special training from The Giver. The Giver alone
holds the memories of the true pain and pleasure of life. Now, it
is time for Jonas to receive the truth. There is no turning
back.
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作者介绍：
Lois Lowry is a multi-award-winning author who has written many
popular books. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She is the
author of the popular Anastasia Krupnik books and was the recipient
of the Newbery Medal for Number the Stars and for The
Giver.
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书籍摘录：
Chapter 1
It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened.
No. Wrong word, Jonas thought. Frightened meant that deep,
sickening feeling of something terrible about to happen. Frightened
was the way he had felt a year ago when an unidentified aircraft
had overflown the community twice. He had seen it both times.
Squinting toward the sky, he had seen the sleek jet, almost a blur
at its high speed, go past, and a second later heard the blast of
sound that followed. Then one more time, a moment later, from the
opposite direction, the same plane.
At first, he had been only fascinated. He had never seen aircraft
so close, for it was against the rules for Pilots to fly over the
community. Occasionally, when supplies were delivered by cargo
planes to the landing field across the river, the children rode
their bicycles to the river bank and watched, intrigued, the
unloading and then the takeoff directed to the west, always away
from the community.
But the aircraft a year ago had been different. It was not a squat,
fat-bellied cargo plane but a needle-nosed single-pilot jet. Jonas,
looking around anxiously, had seen others — adults as well as
children — stop what they were doing and wait, confused, for an
explanation of the frightening event.
Then all of the citizens had been ordered to go into the nearest
building and stay there. IMMEDIATELY, the rasping voice through the
speakers had said. LEAVE YOUR BICYCLES WHERE THEY ARE.
Instantly, obediently, Jonas had dropped his bike on its side on
the path behind his family’s dwelling. He had run indoors and
stayed there, alone. His parents were both at work, and his little
sister, Lily, was at the Childcare Center where she spent her
after-school hours.
Looking through the front window, he had seen no people: none of
the busy afternoon crew of Street Cleaners, Landscape Workers, and
Food Delivery people who usually populate the community at that
time of day. He saw only the abandoned bikes here and there on
their sides; an upturned wheel on one was still revolving
slowly.
He had been frightened then. The sense of his own community silent,
waiting, had made his stomach churn. He had trembled.
But it had been nothing. Within minutes the speakers had crackled
again, and the voice, reassuring now and less urgent, had explained
that a Pilot-in-Training had misread his navigational instructions
and made a wrong turn. Desperately the Pilot had been trying to
make his way back before his error was notice.
NEEDLESS TO SAY, HE WILL BE RELEASED, the voice had said, followed
by silence. There was an ironic tone to that finally message, as if
the Speaker found it amusing; and Jonas had smiled a little, though
he knew what a grim statement it had been. For a contributing
citizen to be released from the community was a final decision, a
terrible punishment, an overwhelming statement of failure.
Even the children were scolded if they used the term lightly at
play, jeering at a teammate who missed a catch or stumbled in a
race. Jonas had done it once, had shouted at his best friend,
“That’s it, Asher! You’re released!” when Asher’s clumsy error had
lost a match for his team. He had been taken aside for a brief and
serious talk by the coach, had hung his head with guilt and
embarrassment, and apologized to Asher after the game.
Now, thinking about the feeling of fear as he pedaled home along
the river path, he remembered that moment of palpable,
stomach-sinking terror when the aircraft had streaked above. It was
not what he was feeling now with December approaching. He searched
for the right word to describe his own feeling.
Jonas was careful about language. Not like his friend, Asher, who
talked too fast and mixed things up, scrambling words and phrases
until they were barely recognizable and often very funny.
Jonas grinned, remembering the morning that Asher had dashed into
the classroom, late as usual, arriving breathlessly in the middle
of the chanting of the morning anthem. When the class took their
seats at the conclusion of the patriotic hymn, Asher remained
standing to make his public apology as was required.
“I apologize for inconveniencing my learning community.” Asher ran
through the standard apology phrase rapidly, still caching his
breath. The Instructor and class waited patiently for his
explanation. The students had all been grinning, because they had
listened to Asher’s explanations so many times before.
“I left home at the correct time but when I was riding along near
the hatchery, the crew was separating some salmon. I guess I just
got distraught, watching them.
“I apologize to my classmates,” Asher concluded. He smoothed his
rumpled tunic and sat down.
“We accept your apology, Asher.” The class recited the standard
response in unison. Many of the students were biting their lips to
keep from laughing.
“I accept your apology, Asher,” the Instructor said. He was
smiling. “And I thank you, because once again you have provided an
opportunity for a lesson in language. ‘Distraught’ is too strong an
adjective to describe salmon-viewing.” He turned and wrote
“distraught” on the instructional board. Beside it he wrote
“distracted.”
Jonas, nearing his home now, smiled at the recollection. Thinking,
still, as he wheeled his bike into its narrow port beside the door,
he realized that frightened was the wrong word to describe his
feeling, now that December was almost here. It was too strong an
adjective.
He had waited a long time for this special December. Now that it
was almost upon him, he wasn’t frightened, but he was…eager, he
decided. He was eager for it to come. And he was excited,
certainly. All of the Elevens were excited about the event that
would be coming so soon.
But there was a little shudder of nervousness when he thought about
it, about what might happen.
Apprehensive,
Jonas decided. That’s what I am.
“Who wants to be the first tonight, for feelings?” Jonas’s father
asked, at the conclusion of their evening meal.
It was one of the rituals, the evening telling of feelings.
Sometimes Jonas and his sister, Lily, argued over turns, over who
would get to go first. Their parents, of course, were part of the
ritual; they, too, told their feelings each evening. But like all
parents — all adults — they didn’t fight and wheedle for their
turn.
Nor did Jonas, tonight. His feelings were too complicated this
evening. He wanted to share them, but he wasn’t eager to begin the
process of sifting through his own complicated emotions, even with
the help that he knew his parents could give.
“You go, Lily,” he said, seeing his sister, who was much younger —
only a Seven — wiggling with impatience in her chair.
“I felt very angry this afternoon, “ Lily announced. “My Childcare
group was at the play area, and we had a visiting group of Sevens,
and they didn’t obey the rules at
all.
One of them — a male;
I don’t know his name — kept going right to the front of the line
for the slide, even though the rest of us were all waiting. I felt
so angry at him. I made my hand into a fist, like this.” She held
up a clenched fist and the rest of the family smiled at her small
defiant gesture.
“Why do you think the visitors didn’t obey the rules?” mother
asked.
Lily considered, and shook her head. “I don’t know. They acted
like…like…”
“Animals?” Jonas suggested. He laughed.
“That’s right, “ Lily said, laughing too. “Like animals.” Neither
child knew what the word meant, exactly, but it was often used to
describe someone uneducated or clumsy, someone who didn’t fit in.
“Where were the visitors from?” Father asked.
Lily frowned, trying to remember. “Our leader told us, when he make
the welcome speech, but I can’t remember. I guess I wasn’t paying
attention. It was from another community. They had to leave very
early, and they had their midday meal on the bus.”
Mother nodded. “Do you think it’s possible that their rules may be
different? And so they simply didn’t know what your play area rules
were?”
Lily shrugged, and nodded. “I suppose.”
“You’ve visited other communities, haven’t you?” Jonas asked. “My
group has, often.”
Lily nodded again. “When we were Sixes, we went and shared a whole
school day with a group of Sixes in their community.”
“How did you feel when you were there?”
Lily frowned. “I felt strange. Because their methods were
different. They were learning usages that my group hadn’t learned
yet, so we felt stupid.”
Father was listening with interest. “I’m thinking, Lily,” he said,
“about the boy who didn’t obey the rules today. Do you think it’s
possible that he felt strange and stupid, being in a new place with
rules that he didn’t know about?”
Lily pondered that. “Yes,” she said, finally.
“I feel a little sorry for him,” Jonas said, “even though I don’t
even know him. I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he
feels strange and stupid.”
“How do you feel now, Lily?” Father asked. “Still angry?”
“I guess not,” Lily decided. “I guess I feel a little sorry for
him. And sorry I made a fist.” She grinned.
Jonas smiled back at his sister. Lily’s feelings were always
straightforward, fairly simple, usually easy to resolve. He guessed
that his own had been, too, when he was a Seven.
He listened politely, though not very attenti...
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In a world with no poverty, no crime, no sickness and no
unemployment, and where every family is happy, 12-year-old Jonas is
chosen to be the community's Receiver of Memories. Under the
tutelage of the Elders and an old man known as the Giver, he
discovers the disturbing truth about his utopian world and
struggles against the weight of its hypocrisy. With echoes of
Brave New World, in this
1994 Newbery Medal winner, Lowry
examines the idea that people might freely choose to give up their
humanity in order to create a more stable society. Gradually Jonas
learns just how costly this ordered and pain-free society can be,
and boldly decides he cannot pay the price. --
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