두 도시 이야기 / A Tale of Two Cities (영문판)

찰스 디킨스 지음

아이보리잉크 2025년 06월 04일 출간

작품소개

책소개

* 이 도서는 영어만으로 구성되어 있습니다.
찰스 디킨스가 1859년에 발표한 역사 소설로, 프랑스 혁명을 배경으로 런던과 파리, 두 도시를 오가며 인간의 희생과 구원, 사랑과 복수의 서사를 장엄하게 펼쳐 보인 작품이다. "최고의 시대였고, 최악의 시대였다"로 시작되는 이 유명한 첫 문장은, 디킨스가 포착해낸 시대의 격동과 인간 존재의 양면성을 상징적으로 보여준다. 소설은 프랑스 귀족 드네이와 그를 사랑하는 루시 마네트, 그리고 루시를 위해 자신을 바치는 변호사 시드니 카턴의 얽히고설킨 운명을 중심으로 전개된다. 디킨스는 개인의 삶과 역사의 흐름이 어떻게 충돌하고, 또 교차하는지를 정교하게 그려냈으며, 특히 시드니 카턴의 자기희생은 영문학사에서 가장 감동적인 결말 중 하나로 손꼽히고 있다.

목차

표지
목차
Book the First—Recalled to Life
CHAPTER I. The Period
CHAPTER II. The Mail
CHAPTER III. The Night Shadows
CHAPTER IV. The Preparation
CHAPTER V. The Wine-shop
CHAPTER VI. The Shoemaker
Book the Second—the Golden Thread
CHAPTER I. Five Years Later
CHAPTER II. A Sight
CHAPTER III. A Disappointment
CHAPTER IV. Congratulatory
CHAPTER V. The Jackal
CHAPTER VI. Hundreds of People
CHAPTER VII. Monseigneur in Town
CHAPTER VIII. Monseigneur in the Country
CHAPTER IX. The Gorgon’s Head
CHAPTER X. Two Promises
CHAPTER XI. A Companion Picture
CHAPTER XII. The Fellow of Delicacy
CHAPTER XIII. The Fellow of No Delicacy
CHAPTER XIV. The Honest Tradesman
CHAPTER XV. Knitting
CHAPTER XVI. Still Knitting
CHAPTER XVII. One Night
CHAPTER XVIII. Nine Days
CHAPTER XIX. An Opinion
CHAPTER XX. A Plea
CHAPTER XXI. Echoing Footsteps
CHAPTER XXII. The Sea Still Rises
CHAPTER XXIII. Fire Rises
CHAPTER XXIV. Drawn to the Loadstone Rock
Book the Third—the Track of a Storm
CHAPTER I. In Secret
CHAPTER II. The Grindstone
CHAPTER III. The Shadow
CHAPTER IV. Calm in Storm
CHAPTER V. The Wood-Sawyer
CHAPTER VI. Triumph
CHAPTER VII. A Knock at the Door
CHAPTER VIII. A Hand at Cards
CHAPTER IX. The Game Made
CHAPTER X. The Substance of the Shadow
CHAPTER XI. Dusk
CHAPTER XII. Darkness
CHAPTER XIII. Fifty-two
CHAPTER XIV. The Knitting Done
CHAPTER XV. The Footsteps Die Out For Ever
브랜드 소개
copyrights
(참고) 분량: 약 5만자

책 속으로

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever.
It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane brood.
France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about with muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous.
In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night; families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing their furniture to upholsterers’ warehouses for security; the highwayman in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of "the Captain," gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the mail was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and then got shot dead himself by the other four, "in consequence of the failure of his ammunition:" after which the mail was robbed in peace; that magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand and deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the illustrious creature in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in London gaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law fired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball; thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at Court drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles’s, to search for contraband goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the musketeers fired on the mob, and nobody thought any of these occurrences much out of the common way. In the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy and ever worse than useless, was in constant requisition; now, stringing up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now, hanging a housebreaker on Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now, burning people in the hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets at the door of Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious murderer, and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer’s boy of sixpence.
All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded, those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and the fair faces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights with a high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures—the creatures of this chronicle among the rest—along the roads that lay before them.

작가정보

저자(글) 찰스 디킨스

찰스 디킨스(Charles Dickens, 1812–1870)는 19세기 영국을 대표하는 소설가로, 사회적 약자에 대한 깊은 연민과 날카로운 풍자를 바탕으로 산업화 시대의 불평등과 인간성을 문학으로 풀어낸 작가이다.