文章点睛
长期以来，批评家认为凯特？肖邦的《一个小时的故事》是一篇女权主义作品。作者大胆地采用了这个幻想丈夫死去的主题。在这部小说里，一个年轻女人得知她的丈夫在一次铁路事故中死了。她哭泣着回到了房间里。慢慢地，她开始意识到自己灵魂的变化：“她低声说；‘自由，自由，自由！’……她知道在度过了漫长的痛苦时刻之后，她将完全属于她自己了。”后来，没有任何警告，她根本就没有乘坐那列火车的丈夫，开门进来了。当她看到他的时候，她的心脏停止了跳动。她身边的每一个人都认为她是因为高兴才会这样。只有女主人公和读者知道真正的原因。
虽然故事的主人公是位传统的家庭主妇，但她的悲剧不仅是女性的悲剧，而且是生命个体在社会规范的制约之下，生存空间逐渐萎缩、直至消失的悲剧。作者通过人物的话语特征、人物的相互关系以及戏剧式的场景描述揭示了女主人公失去话语空间、思维空间直至整个生存空间的悲剧性主题。
Knowing that Mrs.Mallard was afflicted[1]with a heart trouble，great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband’s death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her，in broken sentences，veiled hints that revealed in half concealing.Her husband’s friend Richards was there，too，near her.It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence[2]of the railroad disaster was received，with Brently Mallard’s name leading the list of“killed.”He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram，and had hastened to forestall[3]any less careful，less tender friend in bearing the sad message.
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same，with a paralyzed[4]inability to accept its significance.She wept at once，with sudden，wild abandonment[5]，in her sister’s arms.When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone.She would have no one follow her.
There stood，facing the open window，a comfortable，roomy armchair.Into this she sank，pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver[6]with the new spring life.The delicious breath of rain was in the air.In the street below a peddler[7]was crying his wares.The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly，and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled above the other in the west facing her window.
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair，quite motionless，except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her，as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.
She was young，with a fair，calm face，whose lines bespoke repression[8]and even a certain strength.But now there was a dull stare in her eyes，whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky.It was not a glance of reflection，but rather indicated a suspension[9]of intelligent thought.
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it，fearfully.What was it？She did not know；it was too subtle and elusive[10]to name.But she felt it，creeping out of the sky，reaching toward her through the sounds，the scents，the color that filled the air.
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously[11].She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her，and she was striving to beat it back with her will-as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been.
When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips.She said it over and over under her breath：“Free，free，free！”The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes.They stayed keen and bright.Her pulses beat fast，and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her.A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.
She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind，tender hands folded in death；the face that had never looked save with love upon her，fixed and gray and dead.But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely.And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for her during those coming years；she would live for herself.There would be no powerful will bending her in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature.A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination[12]。
And yet she had loved him-sometimes.Often she had not.What did it matter！What could love，the unsolved mystery，count for in face of this possession of self-assertion，which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being！
“Free！Body and soul free！”she kept whispering.
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhole，imploring for admission.“Louise，open the door！I beg；open the door-you will make yourself ill.What are you doing，Louise？For heaven’s sake open the door.”
“Go away.I am not ****** myself ill.”No；she was drinking in a very elixir[13]of life through that open window.
Her fancy was running riot[14]along those days ahead of her.Spring days，and summer days，and all sorts of days that would be her own.She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long.It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister’s importunities[15].There was a feverish triumph in her eyes，and she carried herself unwittingly[16]like a goddess of Victory.She clasped her sister’s waist，and together they descended the stairs.Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.
Someone was opening the front door with a latchkey.It was Brently Mallard who entered，a little travel-stained，composedly carrying his gripsack[17]and umbrella.He had been far from the scene of accident，and did not even know there had been one.He stood amazed at Josephine’s piercing cry；at Richards’quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.
But Richards was too late.
When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease-of joy that kills.
凯特？肖邦
知道马兰德夫人的心脏很衰弱，他们尽可能小心冀冀地把她丈夫死亡的消息告诉她。
玛兰德的姐姐约瑟芬，用不连贯的语言，遮遮掩掩地给她暗示着。她丈夫的朋友理查兹也在那儿，就在她身边。在列有布伦特？马兰德名字的火车事故遇难者的名单传来时，理查兹正好在报社里。紧接其后的电报，使他在最快的时间里证明了消息的可靠性。他必须赶在那些不太心细，不太温柔的朋友之前把这个不幸的消息带回来。
她没有像别的女人那样，带着麻木接受的神情听这个故事。她近似绝望地扑倒在姐姐的怀里嚎啕大哭，泪如泉涌。当这暴风雨般的悲伤过去后，她独自一人回到了自己的房间，不让任何人跟着她。
窗户对面，放着一把舒服的大扶手椅，她疲惫不堪地沉了进去。这种疲惫，折磨着她的身体，似乎也正浸入她的灵魂。
她看到了屋外广场上，充满新春气息的树梢是那么的兴奋。空气中弥漫着芬芳的雨的气息。窗户下面的街道上，小贩正在叫卖他的器皿。远处传来缥缈的歌声，数不清的麻雀也在屋檐下叽叽喳喳地唱个不停。
对着她窗户的西边天空上，层层叠叠的云朵之间，露着一绺一绺的蔚蓝色的天空。
她把头靠在椅背上，非常的平静。除了像个孩子自己哭着睡着了，还继续呜咽一样，她也偶尔地呜咽一下，这使她有点颤抖。
她很年轻，她那白皙、安详的脸上线条，显示着一种压抑甚或说是一种力量。但是现在，她那凝望蓝天的双眸，目光茫然，甚或有点呆滞。这并不是匆匆沉思的一瞥，更不是一种长久的深思熟虑。
有一种感觉正在向她靠近，那正是她带着恐惧等待的。是什么？她不知道。这种感觉太微妙，太难以捉摸，她说不清楚。但她感觉得到它，它正在空中蔓延，它穿过弥漫于空气中的声音、气味和颜色慢慢地靠近她。
现在，她内心骚动不安。她开始认识到那种向她步步进逼、并且渐渐地控制她的感觉是什么。她努力地想用自己的意志力把这种感觉打回去，但是她的意志力就像她那两只纤细、白皙的双手一样的无力。
当她任那种感觉肆意发展的时候，从她微微张开的双唇间喃喃地溢出一个词。她屏住呼吸一遍又一遍地重复着：“自由，自由，自由！”随着那种感觉而来的茫然的目光和恐惧的神色从她的眼里消失了。现在，她的目光透着机敏，炯炯有神。她的心跳加快，热血温暖了身体的每一个部位，使她感到身心放松。
她没有片刻去想她此刻拥有的这种欢愉，是否不正当。一种清清楚楚的、兴奋的感觉燃烧着她，她根本无暇去顾及那些个琐事。
她知道，当她见到丈夫那双温柔、亲切的双手变得僵硬，那张从来都不会对她吝啬爱意的脸变得毫无表情、灰白如纸的时候，她肯定还会哭的。但在这痛苦之外，她看到了长远的未来，那些只属于她自己的未来岁月。她张开双臂去迎接那些岁月。
在未来的岁月里，她不再活着只是为了别人，而只为她自己。那时，她不必再盲目地屈从于任何专横的意志。人们总是相信他们有权把群体的意志强加于个人意志之上。无论其动机的善良与否，她突然感到这种做法绝不亚于犯罪。
是的，她曾经爱他―有时爱他。更多的时候，她并不爱他。那有什么关系！爱情这神秘的玩意，在她突然拥有了自我，就是做回她自己的强烈的冲动的时候，有什么意义呢？
“自由！身体和灵魂的自由！”她不断地呢喃着。
她姐姐约瑟芬跪在紧闭的门前，把嘴贴在锁孔上，恳求着让她进来。“路易斯，开门！我求你了，把门打开―你会使自己生病的。你在干什么，路易斯？看在上帝的份上，把门打开。”
“走开。我不会使自己生病的。”不会的，她正陶醉在窗外那不息的生命里。
她的想象像脱僵的野马一样狂奔着。她想像着未来的日子，春天的日子，夏天的日子，所有将属于她自己的日子。她祈祷着长寿，而就在昨天，她还那么肯定地嫌生命太漫长。
最后，在她姐姐的强烈要求下，她站起来，把门打开。她的眼里充满了兴奋和胜利，她不知道自己看起来就像胜利女神一样。她搂住姐姐的腰，一起走下楼梯。理查兹站在下面等他们。
有人用钥匙打开了前门。进来的正是布伦特？马兰德，他有点风尘仆仆，手提旅行袋和雨伞。他离事发现场很远，他甚至不知道发生了车祸。他愣在那儿，对约瑟芬的尖叫感到吃惊，对理查兹快速地把他挡在妻子的视线外感到吃惊。
但是理查兹已经太迟了。
医生赶来时，他们说她死于心脏病―死于无法承受的兴奋！
作者简介
About the Author
Kate Chopin：凯特？肖邦，（1851―1904）出生于美国圣路易斯。她在快四十岁的时候出版了第一本小说，《故障》（At Fault 1890）。她的短篇小说也开始出现在《世纪》（Century）和《哈泼》杂志（Harper’s Magazine）上。随后又出版了两个选集：《支流人》（Bayou Folk 1894）和《阿卡迪一夜》（A Night in Arcadie 1897）。最后的主要作品，有超短篇《一双丝袜》（A Pair of Silk Stocking）等，其后的小说《觉醒》（The Awakening 1899），是她的杰作。
在十九世纪末，肖邦试图直白d描写女性在与男性、儿童的关系及她们本身****中的感受和情绪。这一点被认为是冒犯了当时上流社会的读者。在自然而不是教堂中寻求上帝，肖邦大量描写性与爱的主题。她为美国作家们悲哀，认为由环境所致，艺术上的局限性阻碍了完整且本能的叙述。那些挑战传统社会行为的作品，如《一小时的故事》，常常被杂志编辑拒绝。然而半个多世纪后，女权主义评论家却大力提倡。
V
词汇扫雷
ocabulary
1.be afflicted with：受……折磨，患有
2.intelligence：消息，讯息
3.forestall：先发制人，预先阻止
4.paralyzed：麻痹的，僵硬的
5.abandonment：放任
6.aquiver：颤抖的，兴奋的
7.peddler：小贩
8.repression：压制，压抑
9.suspension：暂停，中止
10.elusive：难以捕捉的
11.tumultuously：骚乱地，喧闹地
12.illumination：启迪
13.elixir：万能药，长生不老药
14.riot：暴动
15.importunity：再三恳求
16.unwittingly：不知不觉地
17.gripsack：旅行用手提包
小编点评
这篇短短一千多字的文章现今几乎成了，但凡提及英美女性作家作品时必然谈论的经典之作。而在肖邦那个年代，她大胆地尝试却并没有受到出版界和评论界的认可，最后因为不堪忍受攻击而退出文坛，从此再未提笔创作。
好在历史已翻过它蒙昧的一页，女性的地位在一代又一代“娘子军”的奋起反抗下得到了空前的提高。现代女性得以有今天的自由和辉煌真应感谢过去的女先知、女勇士们，是她们用镶有血泪的生命轨迹一点一滴铸就了如今女性地位的高阁。
