The Giver (1994 Newbery Medal Winner)《记忆传授者》(1994年纽伯瑞金奖小说) I***N 9780440237686 mobi 下载 网盘 caj lrf pdf txt 阿里云

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***，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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Lois Lowry is a multi-award-winning autho***ho 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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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 — ***s 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 r***ing voice through the

speakers had said. LE***E 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 Cente***here 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 instructi***

and made a wrong turn. Desperately the Pilot had been trying to

make his way back before his erro***as 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 terro***hen 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 explanati*** 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

resp***e 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 Decembe***as 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, ove***ho

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 ***s — 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 emoti***, 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 c***idered, 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 w***

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.”

Fathe***as 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 ***, 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. --