Whatever may lie at the bottom of this doubtful book must be a question of the first rank and attractiveness, moreover a deeply personal question,—in proof thereof observe the time in which it originated, in spite of which it originated, the exciting period of the Franco-German war of 1870-71. While the thunder of the battle of W?rth rolled over Europe, the ruminator1 and riddle-lover, who had to be the parent of this book, sat somewhere in a nook of the Alps, lost in riddles2 and ruminations, consequently very much concerned and unconcerned at the same time, and wrote down his meditations3 on the Greeks,—the kernel4 of the curious and almost inaccessible5 book, to which this belated prologue6 (or epilogue) is to be devoted7. A few weeks later: and he found himself under the walls of Metz, still wrestling with the notes of interrogation he had set down concerning the alleged9 "cheerfulness" of the Greeks and of Greek art; till at last, in that month of[Pg 2] deep suspense10, when peace was debated at Versailles, he too attained11 to peace with himself, and, slowly recovering from a disease brought home from the field, made up his mind definitely regarding the "Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music."—From music? Music and Tragedy? Greeks and tragic12 music? Greeks and the Art-work of pessimism13? A race of men, well-fashioned, beautiful, envied, life-inspiring, like no other race hitherto, the Greeks—indeed? The Greeks were in need of tragedy? Yea—of art? Wherefore—Greek art?...
We can thus guess where the great note of interrogation concerning the value of existence had been set. Is pessimism necessarily the sign of decline, of decay, of failure, of exhausted15 and weakened instincts?—as was the case with the Indians, as is, to all appearance, the case with us "modern" men and Europeans? Is there a pessimism of strength? An intellectual predilection16 for what is hard, awful, evil, problematical in existence, owing to well-being17, to exuberant18 health, to fullness of existence? Is there perhaps suffering in overfullness itself? A seductive fortitude19 with the keenest of glances, which yearns20 for the terrible, as for the enemy, the worthy21 enemy, with whom it may try its strength? from whom it is willing to learn what "fear" is? What means tragic myth to the Greeks of the best, strongest, bravest era? And the prodigious22 phenomenon of the Dionysian? And that which was born thereof, tragedy?—And again: that of which tragedy died, the Socratism of morality, the dialectics,[Pg 3] contentedness23 and cheerfulness of the theoretical man—indeed? might not this very Socratism be a sign of decline, of weariness, of disease, of anarchically disintegrating24 instincts? And the "Hellenic cheerfulness" of the later Hellenism merely a glowing sunset? The Epicurean will counter to pessimism merely a precaution of the sufferer? And science itself, our science—ay, viewed as a symptom of life, what really signifies all science? Whither, worse still, whence—all science? Well? Is scientism perhaps only fear and evasion25 of pessimism? A subtle defence against—truth! Morally speaking, something like falsehood and cowardice27? And, unmorally speaking, an artifice28? O Socrates, Socrates, was this perhaps thy secret? Oh mysterious ironist, was this perhaps thine—irony?...
2.
What I then laid hands on, something terrible and dangerous, a problem with horns, not necessarily a bull itself, but at all events a new problem: I should say to-day it was the problem of science itself—science conceived for the first time as problematic, as questionable29. But the book, in which my youthful ardour and suspicion then discharged themselves—what an impossible book must needs grow out of a task so disagreeable to youth. Constructed of nought30 but precocious31, unripened self-experiences, all of which lay close to the threshold of the communicable, based on the groundwork of[Pg 4] art—for the problem of science cannot be discerned on the groundwork of science,—a book perhaps for artists, with collateral32 analytical33 and retrospective aptitudes34 (that is, an exceptional kind of artists, for whom one must seek and does not even care to seek ...), full of psychological innovations and artists' secrets, with an artists' metaphysics in the background, a work of youth, full of youth's mettle36 and youth's melancholy37, independent, defiantly38 self-sufficient even when it seems to bow to some authority and self-veneration; in short, a firstling-work, even in every bad sense of the term; in spite of its senile problem, affected39 with every fault of youth, above all with youth's prolixity40 and youth's "storm and stress": on the other hand, in view of the success it had (especially with the great artist to whom it addressed itself, as it were, in a duologue, Richard Wagner) a demonstrated book, I mean a book which, at any rate, sufficed "for the best of its time." On this account, if for no other reason, it should be treated with some consideration and reserve; yet I shall not altogether conceal42 how disagreeable it now appears to me, how after sixteen years it stands a total stranger before me,—before an eye which is more mature, and a hundred times more fastidious, but which has by no means grown colder nor lost any of its interest in that self-same task essayed for the first time by this daring book,—to view science through the optics of the artist, and art moreover through the optics of life....
[Pg 5]
3.
I say again, to-day it is an impossible book to me,—I call it badly written, heavy, painful, image-angling and image-entangling, maudlin43, sugared at times even to femininism, uneven44 in tempo45, void of the will to logical cleanliness, very convinced and therefore rising above the necessity of demonstration46, distrustful even of the propriety47 of demonstration, as being a book for initiates48, as "music" for those who are baptised with the name of Music, who are united from the beginning of things by common ties of rare experiences in art, as a countersign49 for blood-relations in artibus.—a haughty50 and fantastic book, which from the very first withdraws even more from the profanum vulgus of the "cultured" than from the "people," but which also, as its effect has shown and still shows, knows very well how to seek fellow-enthusiasts and lure14 them to new by-ways and dancing-grounds. Here, at any rate—thus much was acknowledged with curiosity as well as with aversion—a strange voice spoke51, the disciple52 of a still "unknown God," who for the time being had hidden himself under the hood26 of the scholar, under the German's gravity and disinclination for dialectics, even under the bad manners of the Wagnerian; here was a spirit with strange and still nameless needs, a memory bristling53 with questions, experiences and obscurities, beside which stood the name Dionysos like one more note of interrogation; here spoke—people said to themselves with misgivings—[Pg 6] something like a mystic and almost m?nadic soul, which, undecided whether it should disclose or conceal itself, stammers54 with an effort and capriciously as in a strange tongue. It should have sung, this "new soul"—and not spoken! What a pity, that I did not dare to say what I then had to say, as a poet: I could have done so perhaps! Or at least as a philologist55:—for even at the present day well-nigh everything in this domain56 remains57 to be discovered and disinterred by the philologist! Above all the problem, that here there is a problem before us,—and that, so long as we have no answer to the question "what is Dionysian?" the Greeks are now as ever wholly unknown and inconceivable....
4.
Ay, what is Dionysian?—In this book may be found an answer,—a "knowing one" speaks here, the votary58 and disciple of his god. Perhaps I should now speak more guardedly and less eloquently59 of a psychological question so difficult as the origin of tragedy among the Greeks. A fundamental question is the relation of the Greek to pain, his degree of sensibility,—did this relation remain constant? or did it veer60 about?—the question, whether his ever-increasing longing61 for beauty, for festivals, gaieties, new cults62, did really grow out of want, privation, melancholy, pain? For suppose even this to be true—and Pericles (or Thucydides) intimates as much in the great Funeral Speech:—whence then the opposite[Pg 7] longing, which appeared first in the order of time, the longing for the ugly, the good, resolute63 desire of the Old Hellene for pessimism, for tragic myth, for the picture of all that is terrible, evil, enigmatical, destructive, fatal at the basis of existence,—whence then must tragedy have sprung? Perhaps from joy, from strength, from exuberant health, from over-fullness. And what then, physiologically64 speaking, is the meaning of that madness, out of which comic as well as tragic art has grown, the Dionysian madness? What? perhaps madness is not necessarily the symptom of degeneration, of decline, of belated culture? Perhaps there are—a question for alienists—neuroses of health? of folk-youth and youthfulness? What does that synthesis of god and goat in the Satyr point to? What self-experience what "stress," made the Greek think of the Dionysian reveller66 and primitive67 man as a satyr? And as regards the origin of the tragic chorus: perhaps there were endemic ecstasies68 in the eras when the Greek body bloomed and the Greek soul brimmed over with life? Visions and hallucinations, which took hold of entire communities, entire cult-assemblies? What if the Greeks in the very wealth of their youth had the will to be tragic and were pessimists70? What if it was madness itself, to use a word of Plato's, which brought the greatest blessings71 upon Hellas? And what if, on the other hand and conversely, at the very time of their dissolution and weakness, the Greeks became always more optimistic, more superficial, more histrionic, also more ardent72 for logic35 and the[Pg 8] logicising of the world,—consequently at the same time more "cheerful" and more "scientific"? Ay, despite all "modern ideas" and prejudices of the democratic taste, may not the triumph of optimism, the common sense that has gained the upper hand, the practical and theoretical utilitarianism, like democracy itself, with which it is synchronous—be symptomatic of declining vigour73, of approaching age, of physiological65 weariness? And not at all—pessimism? Was Epicurus an optimist—because a sufferer?... We see it is a whole bundle of weighty questions which this book has taken upon itself,—let us not fail to add its weightiest question! Viewed through the optics of life, what is the meaning of—morality?...
5.
Already in the foreword to Richard Wagner, art—-and not morality—is set down as the properly metaphysical activity of man; in the book itself the piquant74 proposition recurs75 time and again, that the existence of the world is justified76 only as an ?sthetic phenomenon. Indeed, the entire book recognises only an artist-thought and artist-after-thought behind all occurrences,—a "God," if you will, but certainly only an altogether thoughtless and unmoral artist-God, who, in construction as in destruction, in good as in evil, desires to become conscious of his own equable joy and sovereign glory; who, in creating worlds, frees himself from the anguish77 of fullness and overfullness, from the suffering of the contradictions[Pg 9] concentrated within him. The world, that is, the redemption of God attained at every moment, as the perpetually changing, perpetually new vision of the most suffering, most antithetical, most contradictory78 being, who contrives79 to redeem80 himself only in appearance: this entire artist-metaphysics, call it arbitrary, idle, fantastic, if you will,—the point is, that it already betrays a spirit, which is determined81 some day, at all hazards, to make a stand against the moral interpretation82 and significance of life. Here, perhaps for the first time, a pessimism "Beyond Good and Evil" announces itself, here that "perverseness83 of disposition84" obtains expression and formulation, against which Schopenhauer never grew tired of hurling85 beforehand his angriest imprecations and thunderbolts,—a philosophy which dares to put, derogatorily put, morality itself in the world of phenomena86, and not only among "phenomena" (in the sense of the idealistic terminus technicus), but among the "illusions," as appearance, semblance87, error, interpretation, accommodation, art. Perhaps the depth of this antimoral tendency may be best estimated from the guarded and hostile silence with which Christianity is treated throughout this book,—Christianity, as being the most extravagant89 burlesque90 of the moral theme to which mankind has hitherto been obliged to listen. In fact, to the purely91 ?sthetic world-interpretation and justification92 taught in this book, there is no greater antithesis93 than the Christian88 dogma, which is only and will be only moral, and which, with its absolute standards, for instance, its truthfulness[Pg 10] of God, relegates—that is, disowns, convicts, condemns—art, all art, to the realm of falsehood. Behind such a mode of thought and valuation, which, if at all genuine, must be hostile to art, I always experienced what was hostile to life, the wrathful, vindictive95 counterwill to life itself: for all life rests on appearance, art, illusion, optics, necessity of perspective and error. From the very first Christianity was, essentially96 and thoroughly97, the nausea98 and surfeit99 of Life for Life, which only disguised, concealed100 and decked itself out under the belief in "another" or "better" life. The hatred101 of the "world," the curse on the affections, the fear of beauty and sensuality, another world, invented for the purpose of slandering102 this world the more, at bottom a longing for. Nothingness, for the end, for rest, for the "Sabbath of Sabbaths"—all this, as also the unconditional104 will of Christianity to recognise only moral values, has always appeared to me as the most dangerous and ominous105 of all possible forms of a "will to perish"; at the least, as the symptom of a most fatal disease, of profoundest weariness, despondency, exhaustion106, impoverishment107 of life,—for before the tribunal of morality (especially Christian, that is, unconditional morality) life must constantly and inevitably108 be the loser, because life is something essentially unmoral,—indeed, oppressed with the weight of contempt and the everlasting109 No, life must finally be regarded as unworthy of desire, as in itself unworthy. Morality itself what?—may not morality be a "will to disown life," a secret instinct for annihilation, a principle[Pg 11] of decay, of depreciation110, of slander103, a beginning of the end? And, consequently, the danger of dangers?... It was against morality, therefore, that my instinct, as an intercessory-instinct for life, turned in this questionable book, inventing for itself a fundamental counter—dogma and counter-valuation of life, purely artistic111, purely anti-Christian. What should I call it? As a philologist and man of words I baptised it, not without some liberty—for who could be sure of the proper name of the Antichrist?—with the name of a Greek god: I called it Dionysian.
6.
You see which problem I ventured to touch upon in this early work?... How I now regret, that I had not then the courage (or immodesty?) to allow myself, in all respects, the use of an individual language for such individual contemplations and ventures in the field of thought—that I laboured to express, in Kantian and Schopenhauerian formul?, strange and new valuations, which ran fundamentally counter to the spirit of Kant and Schopenhauer, as well as to their taste! What, forsooth, were Schopenhauer's views on tragedy? "What gives"—he says in Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, II. 495—"to all tragedy that singular swing towards elevation112, is the awakening113 of the knowledge that the world, that life, cannot satisfy us thoroughly, and consequently is not worthy of our attachment114 In this consists the tragic spirit: it therefore leads to resignation." Oh, how[Pg 12] differently Dionysos spoke to me! Oh how far from me then was just this entire resignationism!—But there is something far worse in this book, which I now regret even more than having obscured and spoiled Dionysian anticipations115 with Schopenhauerian formul?: to wit, that, in general, I spoiled the grand Hellenic problem, as it had opened up before me, by the admixture of the most modern things! That I entertained hopes, where nothing was to be hoped for, where everything pointed116 all-too-clearly to an approaching end! That, on the basis of our latter-day German music, I began to fable117 about the "spirit of Teutonism," as if it were on the point of discovering and returning to itself,—ay, at the very time that the German spirit which not so very long before had had the will to the lordship over Europe, the strength to lead and govern Europe, testamentarily and conclusively118 resigned and, under the pompous119 pretence120 of empire-founding, effected its transition to mediocritisation, democracy, and "modern ideas." In very fact, I have since learned to regard this "spirit of Teutonism" as something to be despaired of and unsparingly treated, as also our present German music, which is Romanticism through and through and the most un-Grecian of all possible forms of art: and moreover a first-rate nerve-destroyer, doubly dangerous for a people given to drinking and revering121 the unclear as a virtue122, namely, in its twofold capacity of an intoxicating123 and stupefying narcotic124. Of course, apart from all precipitate125 hopes and faulty applications[Pg 13] to matters specially41 modern, with which I then spoiled my first book, the great Dionysian note of interrogation, as set down therein, continues standing126 on and on, even with reference to music: how must we conceive of a music, which is no longer of Romantic origin, like the German; but of Dionysian?...
7.
—But, my dear Sir, if your book is not Romanticism, what in the world is? Can the deep hatred of the present, of "reality" and "modern ideas" be pushed farther than has been done in your artist-metaphysics?—which would rather believe in Nothing, or in the devil, than in the "Now"? Does not a radical127 bass128 of wrath94 and annihilative pleasure growl129 on beneath all your contrapuntal vocal130 art and aural131 seduction, a mad determination to oppose all that "now" is, a will which is not so very far removed from practical nihilism and which seems to say: "rather let nothing be true, than that you should be in the right, than that your truth should prevail!" Hear, yourself, my dear Sir Pessimist69 and art-deifier, with ever so unlocked ears, a single select passage of your own book, that not ineloquent dragon-slayer passage, which may sound insidiously132 rat-charming to young ears and hearts. What? is not that the true blue romanticist-confession of 1830 under the mask of the pessimism of 1850? After which, of course, the usual romanticist finale at once strikes up,—rupture, collapse133, return and prostration134 before an old belief, before the old God....[Pg 14] What? is not your pessimist book itself a piece of anti-Hellenism and Romanticism, something "equally intoxicating and befogging," a narcotic at all events, ay, a piece of music, of German music? But listen:
Let us imagine a rising generation with this undauntedness of vision, with this heroic impulse towards the prodigious, let us imagine the bold step of these dragon-slayers, the proud daring with which they turn their backs on all the effeminate doctrines135 of optimism, in order "to live resolutely136" in the Whole and in the Full: would it not be necessary for the tragic man of this culture, with his self-discipline to earnestness and terror, to desire a new art, the art of metaphysical comfort, tragedy as the Helena belonging to him, and that he should exclaim with Faust:
"Und sollt ich nicht, sehnsüchtigster Gewalt,
In's Leben ziehn die einzigste Gestalt?"[1]
"Would it not be necessary?" ... No, thrice no! ye young romanticists: it would not be necessary! But it is very probable, that things may end thus, that ye may end thus, namely "comforted," as it is written, in spite of all self-discipline to earnestness and terror; metaphysically comforted, in short, as Romanticists are wont137 to end, as Christians138.... No! ye should first of all learn the art of earthly comfort, ye should learn to laugh, my young friends, if ye are at all determined to remain pessimists: if so, you[Pg 15] will perhaps, as laughing ones, eventually send all metaphysical comfortism to the devil—and metaphysics first of all! Or, to say it in the language of that Dionysian ogre, called Zarathustra:
"Lift up your hearts, my brethren, high, higher! And do not forget your legs! Lift up also your legs, ye good dancers—and better still if ye stand also on your heads!
"This crown of the laughter, this rose-garland crown—I myself have put on this crown; I myself have consecrated139 my laughter. No one else have I found to-day strong enough for this.
"Zarathustra the dancer, Zarathustra the light one, who beckoneth with his pinions140, one ready for flight, beckoning141 unto all birds, ready and prepared, a blissfully light-spirited one:—
"Zarathustra the soothsayer, Zarathustra the sooth-laugher, no impatient one, no absolute one, one who loveth leaps and side-leaps: I myself have put on this crown!
"This crown of the laughter, this rose-garland crown—to you my brethren do I cast this crown! Laughing have I consecrated: ye higher men, learn, I pray you—to laugh!"
Thus spake Zarathustra, lxxiii. 17, 18, and 20.
SILS-MARIA, OBERENGADIN, August 1886.
[1]
In living shape that sole fair form acquire?
SWANWICK, trans. of Faust.
[Pg 18]
THE BIRTH OF TRAGEDY
FROM THE SPIRIT OF MUSIC
[Pg 19]
FOREWORD TO RICHARD WAGNER.
In order to keep at a distance all the possible scruples143, excitements, and misunderstandings to which the thoughts gathered in this essay will give occasion, considering the peculiar144 character of our ?sthetic publicity145, and to be able also Co write the introductory remarks with the same contemplative delight, the impress of which, as the petrifaction146 of good and elevating hours, it bears on every page, I form a conception of the moment when you, my highly honoured friend, will receive this essay; how you, say after an evening walk in the winter snow, will behold147 the unbound Prometheus on the title-page, read my name, and be forthwith convinced that, whatever this essay may contain, the author has something earnest and impressive to say, and, moreover, that in all his meditations he communed with you as with one present and could thus write only what befitted your presence. You will thus remember that it was at the same time as your magnificent dissertation148 on Beethoven originated, viz., amidst[Pg 20] the horrors and sublimities of the war which had just then broken out, that I collected myself for these thoughts. But those persons would err8, to whom this collection suggests no more perhaps than the antithesis of patriotic149 excitement and ?sthetic revelry, of gallant150 earnestness and sportive delight. Upon a real perusal151 of this essay, such readers will, rather to their surprise, discover how earnest is the German problem we have to deal with, which we properly place, as a vortex and turning-point, in the very midst of German hopes. Perhaps, however, this same class of readers will be shocked at seeing an ?sthetic problem taken so seriously, especially if they can recognise in art no more than a merry diversion, a readily dispensable court-jester to the "earnestness of existence": as if no one were aware of the real meaning of this confrontation152 with the "earnestness of existence." These earnest ones may be informed that I am convinced that art is the highest task and the properly metaphysical activity of this life, as it is understood by the man, to whom, as my sublime153 protagonist154 on this path, I would now dedicate this essay.
BASEL, end of the year 1871.
点击收听单词发音
1 ruminator | |
n.好思考的人,沉思默想的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 riddles | |
n.谜(语)( riddle的名词复数 );猜不透的难题,难解之谜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 kernel | |
n.(果实的)核,仁;(问题)的中心,核心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 inaccessible | |
adj.达不到的,难接近的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 prologue | |
n.开场白,序言;开端,序幕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 err | |
vi.犯错误,出差错 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 suspense | |
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 pessimism | |
n.悲观者,悲观主义者,厌世者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 lure | |
n.吸引人的东西,诱惑物;vt.引诱,吸引 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 predilection | |
n.偏好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 exuberant | |
adj.充满活力的;(植物)繁茂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 yearns | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 contentedness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 disintegrating | |
v.(使)破裂[分裂,粉碎],(使)崩溃( disintegrate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 evasion | |
n.逃避,偷漏(税) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 cowardice | |
n.胆小,怯懦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 artifice | |
n.妙计,高明的手段;狡诈,诡计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 questionable | |
adj.可疑的,有问题的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 nought | |
n./adj.无,零 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 precocious | |
adj.早熟的;较早显出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 collateral | |
adj.平行的;旁系的;n.担保品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 analytical | |
adj.分析的;用分析法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 aptitudes | |
(学习方面的)才能,资质,天资( aptitude的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 logic | |
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 mettle | |
n.勇气,精神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 defiantly | |
adv.挑战地,大胆对抗地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 prolixity | |
n.冗长,罗嗦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 maudlin | |
adj.感情脆弱的,爱哭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 tempo | |
n.(音乐的)速度;节奏,行进速度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 initiates | |
v.开始( initiate的第三人称单数 );传授;发起;接纳新成员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 countersign | |
v.副署,会签 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 disciple | |
n.信徒,门徒,追随者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 stammers | |
n.口吃,结巴( stammer的名词复数 )v.结巴地说出( stammer的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 philologist | |
n.语言学者,文献学者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 votary | |
n.崇拜者;爱好者;adj.誓约的,立誓任圣职的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 eloquently | |
adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 veer | |
vt.转向,顺时针转,改变;n.转向 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 cults | |
n.迷信( cult的名词复数 );狂热的崇拜;(有极端宗教信仰的)异教团体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 resolute | |
adj.坚决的,果敢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 physiologically | |
ad.生理上,在生理学上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 physiological | |
adj.生理学的,生理学上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 reveller | |
n.摆设酒宴者,饮酒狂欢者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 ecstasies | |
狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 pessimist | |
n.悲观者;悲观主义者;厌世 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 pessimists | |
n.悲观主义者( pessimist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 blessings | |
n.(上帝的)祝福( blessing的名词复数 );好事;福分;因祸得福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 vigour | |
(=vigor)n.智力,体力,精力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 piquant | |
adj.辛辣的,开胃的,令人兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 recurs | |
再发生,复发( recur的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 contradictory | |
adj.反驳的,反对的,抗辩的;n.正反对,矛盾对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 contrives | |
(不顾困难地)促成某事( contrive的第三人称单数 ); 巧妙地策划,精巧地制造(如机器); 设法做到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 redeem | |
v.买回,赎回,挽回,恢复,履行(诺言等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 perverseness | |
n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 hurling | |
n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的现在分词 );大声叫骂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 semblance | |
n.外貌,外表 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 burlesque | |
v.嘲弄,戏仿;n.嘲弄,取笑,滑稽模仿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 antithesis | |
n.对立;相对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 vindictive | |
adj.有报仇心的,怀恨的,惩罚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 essentially | |
adv.本质上,实质上,基本上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 nausea | |
n.作呕,恶心;极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 surfeit | |
v.使饮食过度;n.(食物)过量,过度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 slandering | |
[法]口头诽谤行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 slander | |
n./v.诽谤,污蔑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 unconditional | |
adj.无条件的,无限制的,绝对的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 impoverishment | |
n.贫穷,穷困;贫化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 everlasting | |
adj.永恒的,持久的,无止境的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 depreciation | |
n.价值低落,贬值,蔑视,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 attachment | |
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 anticipations | |
预期( anticipation的名词复数 ); 预测; (信托财产收益的)预支; 预期的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 conclusively | |
adv.令人信服地,确凿地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 pompous | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的;夸大的;豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 revering | |
v.崇敬,尊崇,敬畏( revere的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 intoxicating | |
a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 narcotic | |
n.麻醉药,镇静剂;adj.麻醉的,催眠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 precipitate | |
adj.突如其来的;vt.使突然发生;n.沉淀物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 radical | |
n.激进份子,原子团,根号;adj.根本的,激进的,彻底的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 bass | |
n.男低音(歌手);低音乐器;低音大提琴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 growl | |
v.(狗等)嗥叫,(炮等)轰鸣;n.嗥叫,轰鸣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 vocal | |
adj.直言不讳的;嗓音的;n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 aural | |
adj.听觉的,听力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 insidiously | |
潜在地,隐伏地,阴险地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 collapse | |
vi.累倒;昏倒;倒塌;塌陷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 prostration | |
n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 doctrines | |
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 );教义;学说;(政府政策的)正式声明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 resolutely | |
adj.坚决地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 Christians | |
n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 consecrated | |
adj.神圣的,被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣,给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 );奉献 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 pinions | |
v.抓住[捆住](双臂)( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 beckoning | |
adj.引诱人的,令人心动的v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 mightiest | |
adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 );巨大的;强有力的;浩瀚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 publicity | |
n.众所周知,闻名;宣传,广告 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 petrifaction | |
n.石化,化石;吓呆;惊呆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 dissertation | |
n.(博士学位)论文,学术演讲,专题论文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 patriotic | |
adj.爱国的,有爱国心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 confrontation | |
n.对抗,对峙,冲突 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 protagonist | |
n.(思想观念的)倡导者;主角,主人公 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |