二十世纪初英国文学：传统与现代转折期

British Literature in the Early 20th Century (1901-1919):

A transitional period from Victorian moralism to experimental modernism

The Edwardiansemphasis on the description of externalities in the presentation of life in novel-writing

Writers with modernist inclinationAttention being paid to the depiction of the inner world of the characters in novel-writing

Arnold Bennett

H.G. Wells John Galsworthy

Joseph Conrad

E.M. Foster

New development of man’s perception and new experience of life demands new method of expression through art

British empire onCharles Darwin 1901:The death of Queen Victoria and the accession of King Edward VII; Edwardian England: reckless in morality Nietzsche

Sigmund Freud 1914: the outbreak of World War I 1918: the end of World War I

The crisis of faith; the prevalence of pessimism

The Edwardiansemphasis on the description of externalities in the presentation of life in novel-writing

Writers with modernist inclinationAttention being paid to the depiction of the inner world of the characters in Short-story novel-writing

writers

Miss Brill

Arnold Bennett

H.G. Wells John Galsworthy

Joseph Conrad

E.M. Foster

New development of man’s perception and new experience of life demands new method of expression through art

Katherine Mansfield

British empire onCharles Darwin 1901:The death of Queen Victoria and the accession of King Edward VII; Edwardian England: reckless in morality Nietzsche Rudyard Kipling 1914: the outbreak of World War I 1918: the end of World War I

Sigmund Freud

The crisis of faith; the prevalence of pessimism

Rupert Brooke

Edward Thomas

British empire on

The GeorgiansA group of lyrical poets writing in traditional and pastoral mode offering an avenue of escape for the people in the period of chaos after World War I 1910-1920

Robert Graves

1901:The death of Queen Victoria and the accession of King Edward VII; Edwardian England: reckless in morality

1914: the outbreak of World War I

1918: the end of World War I

War poetryDramatization and harsh criticism of war as a warning for the posterity

David Jones

Siegfried Sassoon Wilfred Owen

The SoldierRupert Brooke, 1914

If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

IronyWhat passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mocker

ies for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. Ending rhyme: lines end with the same stressed

Condemnation Compassion Remembrance

What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes. Half rhyme off-rhyme): lines end The pallor of (para-rhyme, girls' brows shall be their pall; Their thevowel tenderness of patient minds, withflowers the different but the same consonant And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

sounds (the same vowel and the same consonant)

Strange Meeting It seemed that out of battle I escaped Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped Through granites which titanic wars had groined. Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned, Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred. Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared With piteous recognition in fixed eyes, Lifting distressful hands as if to bless. And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell. With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained; of half rhyme: the feeling of Yet no blood reached there The from effect the upper ground, And no guns thumped, or down the flues moan. something leftmade imperfect, unfinished, to be desired, "Strange friend," I said, "here cause to mourn." or is ofno there being room for setting things to rights. It "None," said that other, "save the undone years, echoes the theme of the poem: life being cut The hopelessness. Whatever hope to is yours, short, yet to be fully lived. Was my life also; I went hunting wild After the wildest beauty in the world, Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair, But mocks the steady running of the hour, And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.

Strange Meeting For of my glee might many men have laughed And of my weeping something had been left, Which must die now. I mean the truth untold, The pity of war, the pity war distilled. Now men will go content with what we have spoiled, Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled. They will be swift with the swiftness of the tigress. None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress. Courage was mine, and I had mystery, Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: To miss the march of this retreating world Into vain citadels that are not walled. Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, Even with truths that lie too deep for taint. I would have poured my spirit without stint But not through wounds; not on the cess of war. Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were. I am the enemy you killed, my friend. I knew you i …… 此处隐藏：3837字，全部文档内容请下载后查看。喜欢就下载吧 ……