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　　《簡·愛》（Jane Eyre）十九世紀英國著名女作傢夏洛蒂·勃朗特的代錶作，人們普遍認為《簡·愛》是夏洛蒂·勃朗特“詩意的生平寫照”，是一部具有自傳色彩的作品。講述瞭一位從小變成孤兒的英國女子在各種磨難中不斷追求自由與尊嚴，堅持自我，最終獲得幸福的故事。本書為英文原版，同時提供配套英文朗讀免費下載，下載方式詳見圖書封底博客鏈接。讓讀者在閱讀精彩故事的同時，亦能提升英文閱讀水平。

內容簡介

　　《簡·愛》（Jane Eyre）十九世紀英國著名女作傢夏洛蒂·勃朗特的代錶作，人們普遍認為《簡·愛》是夏洛蒂·勃朗特“詩意的生平寫照”，是一部具有自傳色彩的作品。講述瞭一位從小變成孤兒的英國女子在各種磨難中不斷追求自由與尊嚴，堅持自我，最終獲得幸福的故事。小說引人入勝地展示瞭男女主人公麯摺起伏的愛情經曆，歌頌瞭擺脫一切舊習俗和偏見，成功塑造瞭一個敢於反抗，敢於爭取自由和平等地位的婦女形象。

　　 這本小說的主題通過對孤女坎坷不平的人生經曆，成功地塑造瞭一個不安於現狀、不甘受辱、敢於抗爭的女性形象，反映瞭一個平凡心靈的坦誠傾訴的呼號和責難，由一個小寫的人成為一個大寫的人的渴望。小說通過羅切斯特兩次截然不同的愛情經曆，批判瞭以金錢為基礎的婚姻和愛情觀，並始終把簡·愛和羅切斯特之間的愛情描寫為思想、纔能、品質與精神上的完全默契。　　

本書為英文原版，同時提供配套英文朗讀免費下載，讓讀者在閱讀精彩故事的同時，亦能提升英文閱讀水平。　　

Jane Eyre (originally published as Jane Eyre: An Autobiography) is a novel by English writer Charlotte Bront?. It was published in 1847, under the pen name “Currer Bell”.

Primarily of the bildungsroman genre, Jane Eyre follows the emotions and experiences of its title character, including her growth to adulthood and her love for Mr. Rochester, the Byronic master of fictitious Thornfield Hall. In its internalisation of the action—the focus is on the gradual unfolding of Jane's moral and spiritual sensibility, and all the events are coloured by a heightened intensity that was previously the domain of poetry—Jane Eyre revolutionised the art of fiction. Charlotte Bront? has been called the “first historian of the private consciousness” and the literary ancestor of writers, like Joyce and Proust. The novel contains elements of social criticism, with a strong sense of morality at its core, but is nonetheless a novel many consider ahead of its time given the individualistic character of Jane and the novel's exploration of classism, sexuality, religion, and proto-feminism.

Jane Eyre may not be the first feminist novel, but it is certainly one of the most enduring. There have been at least 20 movie and television versions of Charlotte Bront?’s gothic love story, even more than of Emma or Pride and Prejudice.

作者簡介

　　夏洛蒂·勃朗特（Charlotte Bronte，1816-1855年），英國小說傢，生於貧苦的牧師傢庭，曾在寄宿學校學習，後任教師和傢庭教師。1847年，夏洛蒂·勃朗特齣版著名的長篇小說《簡·愛》，轟動文壇。1848年鞦到1849年她的弟弟和兩個妹妹相繼去世。在死亡的陰影和睏惑下，她堅持完成瞭《謝利》一書，寄托瞭她對妹妹艾米莉的哀思，並描寫瞭英國早期自發的工人運動。夏洛蒂·勃朗特善於以抒情的筆法描寫自然景物，作品具有濃厚的感情色彩。

內頁插圖

目錄

CHAPTER 1 /1
CHAPTER 2 /7
CHAPTER 3 /15
CHAPTER 4 /25
CHAPTER 5 /43
CHAPTER 6 /58
CHAPTER 7 /67
CHAPTER 8 /77
CHAPTER 9 /86
CHAPTER 10 /95
CHAPTER 11 /108
CHAPTER 12 /126
CHAPTER 13 /139
CHAPTER 14 /152
CHAPTER 15 /166
CHAPTER 16 /181
CHAPTER 17 /192
CHAPTER 18 /215
CHAPTER 19 /233
CHAPTER 20 /246
CHAPTER 21 /263
CHAPTER 22 /288
CHAPTER 23 /296
CHAPTER 24 /308
CHAPTER 25 /329
CHAPTER 26 /344
CHAPTER 27 /356
CHAPTER 28 /386
CHAPTER 29 /408
CHAPTER 30 /421
CHAPTER 31 /432
CHAPTER 32 /441
CHAPTER 33 /454
CHAPTER 34 /470
CHAPTER 35 /497
CHAPTER 36 /509
CHAPTER 37 /521
CHAPTER 38 /545

精彩書摘

　　There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.
　　I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
　　The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner—something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were—she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children.”
　　“What does Bessie say I have done?” I asked.
　　“Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.”
　　A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat crosslegged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
　　Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast. I returned to my book—Bewick’s History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape—
　　“Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,
　　Boils round the naked, melancholy isles
　　Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge
　　Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.”
　　Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with “the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space, —that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold.” Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children’s brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.
　　……

前言/序言

　　A preface to the first edition of “Jane Eyre” being unnecessary, I gave none: this second edition demands a few words both of acknowledgment and miscellaneous remark.
　　My thanks are due in three quarters.
　　To the Public, for the indulgent ear it has inclined to a plain tale with few pretensions.
　　To the Press, for the fair field its honest suffrage has opened to an obscure aspirant.
　　To my Publishers, for the aid their tact, their energy, their practical sense and frank liberality have afforded an unknown and unrecommended Author.
　　The Press and the Public are but vague personifications for me, and I must thank them in vague terms; but my Publishers are definite: so are certain generous critics who have encouraged me as only largehearted and high-minded men know how to encourage a struggling stranger; to them, i.e., to my Publishers and the select Reviewers, I say cordially, Gentlemen, I thank you from my heart.
　　Having thus acknowledged what I owe those who have aided and approved me, I turn to another class; a small one, so far as I know, but not, therefore, to be overlooked. I mean the timorous or carping few who doubt the tendency of such books as “Jane Eyre:” in whose eyes whatever is unusual is wrong; whose ears detect in each protest against bigotry—that parent of crime—an insult to piety, that regent of God on earth. I would suggest to such doubters certain obvious distinctions; I would remind them of certain simple truths.
　　Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious han 簡愛：JANE EYRE（英文原版） 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書

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