It is true that few writers, and especially few novelists, bring up that question with anything like the gross assurance and systematic13 confidence of Balzac, who clearly took for involved in his plan of a complete picture of the manners and aspects of his country and his period that he should have his confident “say” about as many things as possible, and who, throughout his immense work, appears never for an instant or in any connection to flinch14 from that complacency. Here it is easy to await him, waylay15 him and catch him in the act, with the consequence, for the most part, of our having to recognise almost with compassion16 the disparity between the author of “La Cousine Bette” exercising his genius, as Matthew Arnold said of Ruskin, in making a like distinction, and the same writer taking on a character not in the least really rooted in that soil. The fact none the less than his generalising remains17 throughout so markedly inferior to his particularising—which latter element and very essence of the novelist’s art it was his greatness to carry further and apply more consistently than any member of the craft, without exception, has felt the impulse, to say nothing of finding the way, to do—by no means wholly destroys the interest of the habit itself or relieves us of a due attention to it; so characteristic and significant, so suggestive even of his special force, though in a manner indirect, are the very folds and redundancies of this philosopher’s robe that flaps about his feet and drags along the ground like an assumed official train. The interest here—where it is exactly that a whole face of his undertaking18 would be most illumined for the fellow-artist we imagine trying to exhibit him—depends much less on what his reflection and opinion, his irrepressible obiter dicta and monstrous19 suffisances of judgment20 may be, than on the part played in his scheme by his holding himself ready at every turn and at such short notice to judge. For this latter fact probably lights up more than any other his conception of the range of the novel, the fashion after which, in his hands, it had been felt as an all-inclusive form, a form without rift21 or leak, a tight mould, literally22, into which everything relevant to a consideration of the society surrounding him—and the less relevant unfortunately, as well as the more—might be poured in a stream of increasing consistency23, the underlapping subject stretched, all so formidably, to its own constituted edge and the compound appointed to reproduce, as in finest and subtlest relief, its every minutest feature, overlying and corresponding with it all round to the loss of no fraction of an inch.
It is thus the painter’s aspiring25 and rejoicing consciousness of the great square swarming26 picture, the picture of France from side to side and from top to bottom, which he proposes to copy—unless we see the collective quantity rather as the vast primary model or sitter that he is unprecedentedly28 to portray29, it is this that, rendering30 him enviable in proportion to his audacity31 and his presumption32, gives a dignity to everything that makes the consciousness whole. The result is a state of possession of his material unlike that of any other teller33 of tales whatever about a circumjacent world, and the process of his gain of which opens up well-nigh the first of those more or less baffling questions, parts indeed of the great question of the economic rule, the practical secret, of his activity, that beset34 us as soon as we study him. To fit what he was and what he did, that is the measure of how he used himself and how he used every one and everything else, into his after all so brief career (for twenty years cover the really productive term of it) is for ourselves, we confess, to renounce35 any other solution than that of his having proceeded by a sense for facts, the multitudinous facts of the scene about him, that somehow involved a preliminary, a pre-experiential inspiration, a straightness of intuition truly impossible to give an account of and the like of which had never before been shown. He had not to learn things in order to know them; and even though he multiplied himself in more ways than we can reckon up, going hither and thither36 geographically37, leading his life with violence, as it were, though always with intention, and wasting almost nothing that had ever touched him, the natural man, the baptised and registered Honoré, let loose with harsh promptitude upon a world formed from the first moment to excite his voracity38, can only have been all the exploiting agent, the pushing inquirer, the infallible appraiser39, the subject of an arrière-pensée as merciless, in spite of being otherwise genial40, as the black care riding behind the horseman. There was thus left over for him less of mere41 human looseness, of mere emotion, of mere naturalness, or of any curiosity whatever, that didn’t “pay”—and the extent to which he liked things to pay, to see them, think of them, and describe them as prodigiously42 paying, is not to be expressed—than probably marks any recorded relation between author and subject as we know each of these terms.
So it comes that his mastership of whatever given identity might be in question, and much more of the general identity of his rounded (for the artistic43 vision), his compact and containing France, the fixed44, felt frame to him of the vividest items and richest characteristics of human life, can really not be thought of as a matter of degrees of confidence, as acquired or built up or cumbered with verifying fears. He was the given identity and, on the faintest shade of a hint about it caught up, became one with it and lived it—this in the only way in which he could live, anywhere or at any time: which was by losing himself in its relation to his need or to what we call his voracity. Just so his mind, his power of apprehension45, worked naturally in the interest of a society disclosed to that appetite; on the mere approach to the display he inhaled46 information, he recognised himself as what he might best be known for, an historian unprecedented27, an historian documented as none had not only ever been, but had ever dreamed of being—and even if the method of his documentation can leave us for the most part but wondering. The method of his use of it, or of a portion of it, we more or less analyse and measure; but the wealth of his provision or outfit47 itself, the crammed48 store of his categories and cadres, leaves us the more stupefied as we feel it to have been honestly come by. All this is what it is impossible not to regard as in itself a fundamental felicity as no confrère had known; so far, indeed, as Balzac suffered confrères or as the very nature of his faculty could be thought of for them. M. Brunetière’s monograph49 of some years ago, which is but a couple of degrees less weighty, to our sense, than this of M. Faguet before us, justly notes that, whatever other felicity may have graced the exercise of such a genius, for instance, as that rare contemporary George Sand, she was reduced well-nigh altogether to drawing upon resources and enjoying advantages comparatively vague and unassured. She had of course in a manner her special resource and particular advantage, which consisted, so to speak, in a finer feeling about what she did possess and could treat of with authority, and particularly in a finer command of the terms of expression, than any involved in Balzac’s “happier” example. But her almost fatal weakness as a novelist—an exponent50 of the art who has waned51 exactly as, for our general long-drawn52 appreciation, Balzac has waxed—comes from her having had to throw herself upon ground that no order governed, no frame, as we have said, enclosed, and no safety attended; safety of the sort, we mean, the safety of the constitutive, illustrative fact among facts, which we find in her rival as a warm socialised air, an element supremely53 assimilable.
It may freely be pronounced interesting that whereas, in her instinct for her highest security, she threw herself upon the consideration of love as the type attraction or most representable thing in the human scene, so, assuredly, no student of that field has, in proportion to the thoroughness of his study, felt he could afford to subordinate or almost even to neglect it to anything like the tune55 in which we see it put and kept in its place through the parts of the Comédie Humaine that most count. If this passion but too often exhales56 a tepid57 breath in much other fiction—much other of ours at least—that is apt to come decidedly less from the writer’s sense of proportion than from his failure of art, or in other words of intensity58. It is rarely absent by intention or by intelligence, it is pretty well always there as the theoretic principal thing—any difference from writer to writer being mostly in the power to put the principal thing effectively forward. It figures as a pressing, an indispensable even if a perfunctory motive, for example, in every situation devised by Walter Scott; the case being simply that if it doesn’t in fact attractively occupy the foreground this is because his hand has had so native, so much greater, an ease for other parts of the picture. What makes Balzac so pre-eminent and exemplary that he was to leave the novel a far other and a vastly more capacious and significant affair than he found it, is his having felt his fellow-creatures (almost altogether for him his contemporaries) as quite failing of reality, as swimming in the vague and the void and the abstract, unless their social conditions, to the last particular, their generative and contributive circumstances, of every discernible sort, enter for all these are “worth” into his representative attempt. This great compound of the total looked into and starting up in its element, as it always does, to meet the eye of genius and patience half way, bristled59 for him with all its branching connections, those thanks to which any figure could be a figure but by showing for endlessly entangled60 in them.
So it was then that his huge felicity, to re-emphasise our term, was in his state of circulating where recognitions and identifications didn’t so much await as rejoicingly assault him, having never yet in all the world, grudged61 or at the best suspected feeders as they were at the board where sentiment occupied the head, felt themselves so finely important or subject to such a worried intention. They hung over a scene as to which it was one of the forces of his inspiration that history had lately been there at work, with incomparable energy and inimitable art, to pile one upon another, not to say squeeze and dovetail violently into each other, after such a fashion as might defy competition anywhere, her successive deposits and layers of form and order, her restless determinations of appearance—so like those of the different “states” of an engraver’s impression; all to an effect which should have constituted, as by a miracle of coincidence it did, the paradise of an extraordinary observer. Balzac lived accordingly, extraordinary since he was, in an earthly heaven so near perfect for his kind of vision that he could have come at no moment more conceivably blest to him. The later part of the eighteenth century, with the Revolution, the Empire and the Restoration, had inimitably conspired62 together to scatter63 abroad their separate marks and stigmas64, their separate trails of character and physiognomic hits—for which advantage he might have arrived too late, as his hapless successors, even his more or less direct imitators, visibly have done. The fatal fusions66 and uniformities inflicted67 on our newer generations, the running together of all the differences of form and tone, the ruinous liquefying wash of the great industrial brush over the old conditions of contrast and colour, doubtless still have left the painter of manners much to do, but have ground him down to the sad fact that his ideals of differentiation68, those inherent oppositions69 from type to type, in which drama most naturally resides, have well-nigh perished. They pant for life in a hostile air; and we may surely say that their last successful struggle, their last bright resistance to eclipse among ourselves, was in their feverish70 dance to the great fiddling71 of Dickens. Dickens made them dance, we seem to see, caper72 and kick their heels, wave their arms, and above all agitate73 their features, for the simple reason that he couldn’t make them stand or sit at once quietly and expressively74, couldn’t make them look straight out as for themselves—quite in fact as through his not daring to, not feeling he could afford to, in a changing hour when ambiguities75 and the wavering line, droll76 and “dodgy” dazzlements and the possibly undetected factitious alone, might be trusted to keep him right with an incredibly uncritical public, a public blind to the difference between a shade and a patch.
Balzac on the other hand, born as we have seen to confidence, the tonic77 air of his paradise, might make character, in the sense in which we use it, that of the element exposable to the closest verification, sit or stand for its “likeness” as still as ever it would. It is true that he could, as he often did, resort to fond extravagance, since he was apt at his worst to plunge78 into agitation79 for mere agitation’s sake—which is a course that, by any turn, may cast the plunger on the barrenest strand80. But he is at his best when the conditions, the whole complex of subdivisible form and pressure, are virtually themselves the situation, the action and the interest, or in other words when these things exhaust themselves, as it were, in expressing the persons we are concerned with, agents and victims alike, and when by such vivified figures, whether victims or agents, they are themselves completely expressed. The three distinguished81 critics who have best studied him, Taine, Brunetière and now (as well as before this) M. Faguet—the first the most eloquent82 but the loosest, and the last the closest even if the dryest—are in agreement indeed as to the vast quantity of waste in him, inevitably83 judging the romanticist as whom he so frequently, speculatively84, desperately85 paraded altogether inferior to the realist whose function he could still repeatedly and richly and for his greater glory exercise. This estimate of his particularly greater glory is of a truth not wholly shared by M. Taine; but the three are virtually at one, where we of course join them, or rather go further than they, as to the enviability, so again to call it (and by which we mean the matchless freedom of play), of his harvesting sense when he gave himself up in fullest measure to his apprehension of the dense86 wholeness of reality. It was this that led him on and kept him true to that happily largest side of his labour by which he must massively live; just as it is this, the breath of his real geniality87, when every abatement88 is made, that stirs to loyalty89 those who under his example also take his direction and find their joy in watching him thoroughly90 at work. We see then how, when social character and evolved type are the prize to be grasped, the facts of observation and certification, unrestingly social and historic too, that form and fondle and retouch it, never relaxing their action, are so easily and blessedly absolute to him that this is what we mean by their virtue91.
When there were enough of these quantities and qualities flowering into the definite and the absolute for him to feed on, feed if not to satiety92 at least to the largest loosening of his intellectual belt, there were so many that we may even fall in with most of M. Faguet’s discriminations and reserves about him and yet find his edifice93 rest on proportioned foundations. For it is his assimilation of things and things, of his store of them and of the right ones, the right for representation, that leaves his general image, even with great chunks94 of surface surgically95, that is critically, removed, still coherent and erect97. There are moments when M. Faguet—most surgical96 he!—seems to threaten to remove so much that we ask ourselves in wonder what may be left; but no removal matters while the principle of observation animating98 the mass is left unattacked. Our present critic for instance is “down”—very understandingly down as seems to us—on some of the sides of his author’s rich temperamental vulgarity; which is accompanied on those sides by want of taste, want of wit, want of style, want of knowledge of ever so many parts of the general subject, too precipitately99 proposed, and want of fineness of feeling about ever so many others. We agree with him freely enough, subject always to this reserve already glanced at, that a novelist of a high esthetic100 sensibility must always find more in any other novelist worth considering seriously at all than he can perhaps hope to impart even to the most intelligent of critics pure and simple his subtle reasons for. This said, we lose ourselves, to admiration101, in such a matter for example as the tight hug of the mere material, the supremely important if such ever was, represented by the appeal to us on behalf of the money-matters of César Birotteau.
This illustration gains logically, much more than loses, from the rank predominance of the money-question, the money-vision, throughout all Balzac. There are lights in which it can scarce not appear to us that his own interest is greater, his possibilities of attention truer, in these pressing particulars than in all other questions put together; there could be no better sign of the appreciation of “things,” exactly, than so never relaxed a grasp of the part played in the world by just these. Things for things, the franc, the shilling, the dollar, are the very most underlying102 and conditioning, even dramatically, even poetically103, that call upon him; and we have everywhere to recognise how little he feels himself to be telling us of this, that and the other person unless he has first given us full information, with every detail, either as to their private means, their income, investments, savings104, losses, the state in fine of their pockets, or as to their immediate105 place of habitation, their home, their outermost106 shell, with its windows and doors, its outside appearance and inside plan, its rooms and furniture and arrangements, its altogether intimate facts, down to its very smell. This prompt and earnest evocation107 of the shell and its lining108 is but another way of testifying with due emphasis to economic conditions. The most personal shell of all, the significant dress of the individual, whether man or woman, is subject to as sharp and as deep a notation—it being no small part of his wealth of luck that the age of dress differentiated109 and specialised from class to class and character to character, not least moreover among men, could still give him opportunities of choice, still help him to define and intensify110, or peculiarly to place his apparitions111. The old world in which costume had, to the last refinement112 of variety, a social meaning happily lingered on for him; and nothing is more interesting, nothing goes further in this sense of the way the social concrete could minister to him, than the fact that “César Birotteau,” to instance that masterpiece again, besides being a money-drama of the closest texture113, the very epic114 of retail115 bankruptcy116, is at the same time the all-vividest exhibition of the habited and figured, the representatively stamped and countenanced117, buttoned and buckled118 state of the persons moving through it. No livelier example therefore can we name of the triumphant119 way in which any given, or as we should rather say taken, total of conditions works out under our author’s hand for accentuation of type. The story of poor Birotteau is just in this supreme54 degree a hard total, even if every one’s money-relation does loom120 larger, for his or her case, than anything else.
The main thing doubtless to agree with M. Faguet about, however, is the wonder of the rate at which this genius for an infatuated grasp of the environment could multiply the creatures swarming, and swarming at their best to perfection, in that jungle of elements. A jungle certainly the environment, the rank many-coloured picture of France, would have been had it not really created in our observer the joy, thanks to his need of a clear and marked order, of its becoming so arrangeable. Nothing could interest us more than to note with our critic that such multiplications—taken after all at such a rush—have to be paid for by a sort of limitation of quality in each, the quality that, beyond a certain point and after a certain allowance, ever looks askance at any approach to what it may be figured as taking for insolence121 of quantity. Some inquiry122 into the general mystery of such laws of payment would beckon123 us on had we the space—whereby we might glance a little at the wondrous124 why and wherefore of the sacrifice foredoomed, the loss, greater or less, of those ideals now compromised by the tarnished126 names of refinement and distinction, yet which we are none the less, at our decentest, still ashamed too entirely127 to turn our backs on, in the presence of energies that, shaking the air by their embrace of the common, tend to dispossess the rare of a certified128 place in it. Delightful129 to the critical mind to estimate the point at which, in the picture of life, a sense for the element of the rare ceases to consort130 with a sense, necessarily large and lusty, for the varieties of the real that super-abound. Reducible perhaps to some exquisite131 measure is this point of fatal divergence132. It declared itself, the divergence, in the heart of Balzac’s genius; for nothing about him is less to be gainsaid133 than that on the other or further side of a certain line of rareness drawn his authority, so splendid on the hither or familiar side, is sadly liable to lapse134. It fails to take in whatever fine truth experience may have vouchsafed135 to us about the highest kinds of temper, the inward life of the mind, the cultivated consciousness. His truest and vividest people are those whom the conditions in which they are so palpably embedded136 have simplified not less than emphasised; simplified mostly to singleness of motive and passion and interest, to quite measurably finite existence; whereas his ostensibly higher spirits, types necessarily least observed and most independently thought out, in the interest of their humanity, as we would fain ourselves think them, are his falsest and weakest and show most where his imagination and his efficient sympathy break down.
To say so much as this is doubtless to provoke the question of where and how then, under so many other restrictions137, he is so great—which question is answered simply by our claim for his unsurpassed mastery of the “middling” sort, so much the most numerous in the world, the middling sort pressed upon by the vast variety of their dangers. These it is in their multitude whom he makes individually living, each with a clustered bunch of concomitants, as no one, to our mind, has equalled him in doing—above all with the amount of repetition of the feat24 considered. Finer images than the middling, but so much fewer, other creative talents have thrown off; swarms138 of the common, on the other hand, have obeyed with an even greater air of multitude perhaps than in Balzac’s pages the big brandished139 enumerative140 wand—only with a signal forfeiture141 in this case of that gift of the sharply separate, the really rounded, personality which he untiringly conferred. émile Zola, by so far the strongest example of his influence, mustered142 groups and crowds beyond even the master’s own compass; but as throughout Zola we live and move for the most part but in crowds (he thinking his best but in terms of crowdedness), so in Balzac, where he rises highest, we deal, whether or no more for our sense of ugliness than of beauty, but with memorable143 person after person. He thought, on his side—when he thought at least to good purpose—in terms the most expressively personal, in such as could even eventuate in monsters and forms of evil the most finished we know; so that if he too has left us a multitude of which we may say that it stands alone for solidity, it nevertheless exists by addition and extension, not by a chemical shaking-together, a cheapening or diminishing fusion65.
It is not that the series of the Rougon-Macquart has not several distinct men and women to show—though they occur, as a fact, almost in “L’Assommoir” alone; it is not either that Zola did not on occasion try for the cultivated consciousness, a thing of course, so far as ever achieved anywhere, necessarily separate and distinguished; it is that he tried, on such ground, with a futility144 only a shade less marked than Balzac’s, and perhaps would have tried with equal disaster had he happened to try oftener. If we find in his pages no such spreading waste as Balzac’s general picture of the classes “enjoying every advantage,” that is of the socially highest—to the elder writer’s success in depicting145 particularly the female members of which Sainte-Beuve, and Brunetière in his footsteps, have rendered such strange and stupefying homage—the reason may very well be that such groups could not in the nature of the case figure to him after the fashion in which he liked groups to figure, as merely herded146 and compressed. To Balzac they were groups in which individualisation might be raised to its very finest; and it is by this possibility in them that we watch him and his fertile vulgarity, his peccant taste, so fallible for delicacies147, so unerring for simplicities148, above all doubtless the homeliest, strongest and grimmest, wofully led astray. But it is fairly almost a pleasure to our admiration, before him, to see what we have permitted ourselves to call the “chunks” of excision149 carted off to the disengagement of the values that still live. The wondrous thing is that they live best where his grand vulgarity—since we are not afraid of the word—serves him rather than betrays; which it has to do, we make out, over the greater part of the field of any observer for whom man is on the whole cruelly, crushingly, deformedly conditioned. We grant that as to Balzac’s view, and yet feel the view to have been at the same time incomparably active and productively genial; which are by themselves somehow qualities and reactions that redress150 the tragedy and the doom125. The vulgarity was at any rate a force that simply got nearer than any other could have done to the whole detail, the whole intimate and evidenced story, of submission151 and perversion152, and as such it could but prove itself immensely human. It is on all this considered ground that he has for so many years stood firm and that we feel him by reason of it and in spite of them, in spite of all that has come and gone, not to have yielded, have “given,” an inch.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
scantily
|
|
| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
authoritative
|
|
| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
bequest
|
|
| n.遗赠；遗产，遗物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
initiation
|
|
| n.开始 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
projector
|
|
| n.投影机，放映机，幻灯机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
overriding
|
|
| a.最主要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
systematic
|
|
| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
flinch
|
|
| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
waylay
|
|
| v.埋伏，伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
undertaking
|
|
| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
rift
|
|
| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
consistency
|
|
| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
aspiring
|
|
| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
unprecedented
|
|
| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
unprecedentedly
|
|
| adv.空前地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
portray
|
|
| v.描写，描述；画(人物、景象等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
rendering
|
|
| n.表现，描写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
presumption
|
|
| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
teller
|
|
| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
renounce
|
|
| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
geographically
|
|
| adv.地理学上，在地理上，地理方面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
voracity
|
|
| n.贪食，贪婪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
appraiser
|
|
| n.评价者，鉴定者，估价官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
prodigiously
|
|
| adv.异常地，惊人地，巨大地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
inhaled
|
|
| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
outfit
|
|
| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
crammed
|
|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
monograph
|
|
| n.专题文章，专题著作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
exponent
|
|
| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
waned
|
|
| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
supremely
|
|
| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
exhales
|
|
| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的第三人称单数 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
tepid
|
|
| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
bristled
|
|
| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
entangled
|
|
| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
grudged
|
|
| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
conspired
|
|
| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
stigmas
|
|
| n.耻辱的标记，瑕疵( stigma的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
fusion
|
|
| n.溶化；熔解；熔化状态，熔和；熔接 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
fusions
|
|
| 熔合( fusion的名词复数 )； 核聚变； 联合； 合并 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
differentiation
|
|
| n.区别，区分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
oppositions
|
|
| （强烈的）反对( opposition的名词复数 )； 反对党； （事业、竞赛、游戏等的）对手； 对比 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
fiddling
|
|
| 微小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
caper
|
|
| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
agitate
|
|
| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
expressively
|
|
| ad.表示(某事物)地；表达地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
ambiguities
|
|
| n.歧义( ambiguity的名词复数 )；意义不明确；模棱两可的意思；模棱两可的话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
droll
|
|
| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
tonic
|
|
| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
inevitably
|
|
| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
speculatively
|
|
| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
geniality
|
|
| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
abatement
|
|
| n.减(免)税，打折扣，冲销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
loyalty
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
satiety
|
|
| n.饱和；(市场的)充分供应 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
chunks
|
|
| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
surgically
|
|
| adv. 外科手术上, 外科手术一般地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
surgical
|
|
| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
animating
|
|
| v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 )；驱动；使栩栩如生地动作；赋予…以生命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
precipitately
|
|
| adv.猛进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
esthetic
|
|
| adj.美学的，审美的；悦目的，雅致的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
underlying
|
|
| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
poetically
|
|
| adv.有诗意地，用韵文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
savings
|
|
| n.存款，储蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
outermost
|
|
| adj.最外面的，远离中心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
evocation
|
|
| n. 引起，唤起 n. <古> 召唤，招魂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
lining
|
|
| n.衬里，衬料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
differentiated
|
|
| 区分，区别，辨别( differentiate的过去式和过去分词 )； 区别对待； 表明…间的差别，构成…间差别的特征 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
intensify
|
|
| vt.加强；变强；加剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
apparitions
|
|
| n.特异景象( apparition的名词复数 )；幽灵；鬼；（特异景象等的）出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
epic
|
|
| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
retail
|
|
| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
bankruptcy
|
|
| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
countenanced
|
|
| v.支持，赞同，批准( countenance的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
118
buckled
|
|
| a. 有带扣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
loom
|
|
| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
insolence
|
|
| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
beckon
|
|
| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
tarnished
|
|
| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
certified
|
|
| a.经证明合格的；具有证明文件的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
consort
|
|
| v.相伴；结交 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
divergence
|
|
| n.分歧，岔开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
gainsaid
|
|
| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
embedded
|
|
| a.扎牢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
restrictions
|
|
| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
brandished
|
|
| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
enumerative
|
|
| adj.列举的，计数上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
forfeiture
|
|
| n.（名誉等）丧失 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
mustered
|
|
| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
futility
|
|
| n.无用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
depicting
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的现在分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
herded
|
|
| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
delicacies
|
|
| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
simplicities
|
|
| n.简单，朴素，率直( simplicity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
excision
|
|
| n.删掉；除去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
redress
|
|
| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
submission
|
|
| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
perversion
|
|
| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |