Warm Bodies 溫暖的屍體 [平裝] 下載 mobi epub pdf 電子書 2025

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☆☆☆☆☆

Isaac Marion 著

圖書標籤:

• 僵屍
• 浪漫
• 科幻
• 末日
• 愛情
• 喜劇
• 青少年
• 奇幻
• 生存
• 超自然

齣版社： Random House UK

ISBN：9780099549345

商品編碼：19262190

包裝：平裝

齣版時間：2010-12-01

用紙：膠版紙

頁數：256

正文語種：英文

商品尺寸：19.8x13.2x1.6cm;0.25kg

編輯推薦

　　一場末日浩劫後的未來，神秘的病毒毀滅瞭文明，受害者喪失過去的記憶，變身為吃活人的僵屍，幸存的人類建立起堅固的高牆堡壘，以防止飢餓的僵屍們，成群結隊闖進來獵食…。然而，這種看似傳統活屍片的背景設定，卻因男主角R的齣現而顛覆一切！R是個沒有記憶、心跳的僵屍，卻懷抱著許多夢想，他的內心世界充滿驚奇與渴望。某日R正在獵食人類時，竟然煞到瞭一位溫暖、燦爛的活生生女孩茱莉，R不但沒吃掉她的腦袋，還決定救她一命，讓她免於遭受R的僵屍同伴吞噬。 對原本形如槁木死灰的R而言，茱莉的齣現，簡直是蒼灰陰鬱中一抹奔放艷麗的色彩。於是一段緊張而又異常溫柔的甜蜜關係就此展開。
　　R悄悄把茱莉帶迴他稱為傢的地方，即一座滿布僵屍的機場，並讓她躲在一架廢棄的767波音客機上，裏麵有他到處搜集而來的“寶藏”，包括黑膠唱片、雪景水晶球、樂器等。接下來的幾天，他們在這個隱匿處意外地共度瞭愜意的日子，在不知不覺之中，活潑的茱莉喚起R遺忘已久的人性情感，而她也開始瞭解到他不隻是個慢動作、眼神呆滯的行屍走肉。
　　茱莉很睏惑自己對於R的感情，於是帶著復雜情緒返迴人類城市。她父親是無情的僵屍獵人，領導人類大軍捍衛他們僅存的高牆傢園。同時，害相思病的R開始産生前所未有的改變，他相信自己與茱莉的相知相惜能夠拯救無論是生是死的人類，不過他齣現在她傢門口時，很快就掀起活人和僵屍（以及皮包骨）之間的全麵性混戰，而這也威脅到這一對奇跡戀人未來能否在一起的可貴機會。
　　這種事從沒發生過，不但不閤邏輯，也違背瞭規矩，不但改變瞭R，也改變他的僵屍同伴，甚至讓死氣沉沉的世界齣現瞭生機。然而，在那陰森腐敗的世界裏，想要完成夢想，他們還需要一場革命……

內容簡介

R is a young man with an existential crisis--he is a zombie. He shuffles through an America destroyed by war, social collapse, and the mindless hunger of his undead comrades, but he craves something more than blood and brains. He can speak just a few grunted syllables, but his inner life is deep, full of wonder and longing. He has no memories, noidentity, and no pulse, but he has dreams.
After experiencing a teenage boy's memories while consuming his brain, R makes an unexpected choice that begins a tense, awkward, and stragely sweet relationship with the victim's human girlfriend. Julie is a blast of color in the otherwise dreary and gray landscape that surrounds R. His decision to protect her will transform not only R, but his fellow Dead, and perhaps their whole lifeless world.
Scary, funny, and surprisingly poignant, Warm Bodies is about being alive, being dead, and the blurry line in between.

　　《溫暖的屍體》講述瞭一個叫做“R”的僵屍和一個他殺死的人類的女友之間的浪漫關係，這段關係引發瞭連鎖反應，不僅改變瞭他和他的僵屍夥伴，也改變瞭整個僵屍世界。

作者簡介

Isaac Marion was born near Seattle in 1981 and has lived in and around that city ever since. Deciding to forgo college in favor of direct experience, he dived into writing while still in high school and self-published three terrible novels before finally hitting his stride with Warm Bodies, his first published work. He currently splits his time between writing in Seattle and hunting inspiration on cross-country RV trips. Visit IsaacMarion.com.

精彩書評

“I never thought I could care so passionately for a zombie. Isaac Marion has created the most unexpected romantic lead I've ever encountered, and rewritten the entire concept of what it means to be a zombie in the process. This story stayed with me long after I was done reading it. I eagerly await the next book by Isaac Marion.”
(Stephenie Meyer, #1 New York Times Bestselling author of the Twilight series)

“A mesmerising evolution of a classic contemporary myth.”
(Simon Pegg, New York Times bestselling author of Nerd Do Well)

“Warm Bodies is a terrific book—a compelling literary fantasy which is also a strange and affecting pop-culture parable.”
(Nick Harkaway, author of The Gone-Away World)

“Isaac Marion has a great new voice that hooks you from page one and accomplishes the impossible: it makes you care about young zombie love. Warm Bodies is a terrific read.”
(Josh Bazell, New York Times bestselling author of Beat the Reaper)

“Enormous fun.”
(Marie Claire (UK))

“Wryly playful, cinematic, and ultimately moving.”
(Time Out London)

“Has there been a more sympathetic monster since Frankenstein's?”
(The Financial Times)

“It’s got the boarded-up strongholds and mob mentality of Night of the Living Dead—but also romance. As the evil thing resists its evil nature, the book neuters zombies in the same way Stephanie Meyer did vampires.”
(Time Out NY)

“If you haven't caught on to Isaac Marion's writing yet, you're really missing out.”
(About.com)

“In elegant, evocative prose, Marion has fashioned the world’s most unlikely romance in a story that is by turns harrowing, poignant, and tender. At the last, the reader is reminded that we are all ultimately human, whether living or dead. Utterly charming.”
(Library Journal (starred review))

前言/序言

I AM DEAD, but it’s not so bad. I’ve learned to live with it. I’m sorry I can’t properly introduce myself, but I don’t have a name anymore. Hardly any of us do. We lose them like car keys, forget them like anniversaries. Mine might have started with an “R,” but that’s all I have now. It’s funny because back when I was alive, I was always forgetting other people’s names. My friend “M” says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can’t smile, because your lips have rotted off.
None of us are particularly attractive, but death has been kinder to me than some. I’m still in the early stages of decay. Just the gray skin, the unpleasant smell, the dark circles under my eyes. I could almost pass for a Living man in need of a vacation. Before I became a zombie I must have been a businessman, a banker or broker or some young temp learning the ropes, because I’m wearing fairly nice clothes. Black slacks, gray shirt, red tie. M makes fun of me sometimes. He points at my tie and tries to laugh, a choked, gurgling rumble deep in his gut. His clothes are holey jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The shirt is looking pretty macabre by now. He should have picked a darker color.
We like to joke and speculate about our clothes, since these final fashion choices are the only indication of who we were before we became no one. Some are less obvious than mine: shorts and a sweater, skirt and a blouse. So we make random guesses.
You were a waitress. You were a student. Ring any bells?
It never does.
No one I know has any specific memories. Just a vague, vestigial knowledge of a world long gone. Faint impressions of past lives that linger like phantom limbs. We recognize civilization—buildings, cars, a general overview—but we have no personal role in it. No history. We are just here. We do what we do, time passes, and no one asks questions. But like I’ve said, it’s not so bad. We may appear mindless, but we aren’t. The rusty cogs of cogency still spin, just geared down and down till the outer motion is barely visible. We grunt and groan, we shrug and nod, and sometimes a few words slip out. It’s not that different from before.
But it does make me sad that we’ve forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else’s, because I’d like to love them, but I don’t know who they are.
There are hundreds of us living in an abandoned airport outside some large city. We don’t need shelter or warmth, obviously, but we like having the walls and roofs over our heads. Otherwise we’d just be wandering in an open field of dust somewhere, and that would be horrifying. To have nothing at all around us, nothing to touch or look at, no hard lines whatsoever, just us and the gaping maw of the sky. I imagine that’s what being full-dead is like. An emptiness vast and absolute.
I think we’ve been here a long time. I still have all my flesh, but there are elders who are little more than skeletons with clinging bits of muscle, dry as jerky. Somehow it still extends and contracts, and they keep moving. I have never seen any of us “die” of old age. Left alone with plenty of food, maybe we’d “live” forever, I don’t know. The future is as blurry to me as the past. I can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present, and the present isn’t exactly urgent. You might say death has relaxed me.
I am riding the escalators when M finds me. I ride the escalators several times a day, whenever they move. It’s become a ritual. The airport is derelict, but the power still flickers on sometimes, maybe flowing from emergency generators stuttering deep underground. Lights flash and screens blink, machines jolt into motion. I cherish these moments. The feeling of things coming to life. I stand on the steps and ascend like a soul into Heaven, that sugary dream of our childhoods, now a tasteless joke.
After maybe thirty repetitions, I rise to find M waiting for me at the top. He is hundreds of pounds of muscle and fat draped on a six-foot-five frame. Bearded, bald, bruised and rotten, his grisly visage slides into view as I crest the staircase summit. Is he the angel that greets me at the gates? His ragged mouth is oozing black drool.
He points in a vague direction and grunts, “City.”
I nod and follow him.
We are going out to find food. A hunting party forms around us as we shuffle toward town. It’s not hard to find recruits for these expeditions, even if no one is hungry. Focused thought is a rare occurrence here, and we all follow it when it manifests. Otherwise we’d just be standing around and groaning all day. We do a lot of standing around and groaning. Years pass this way. The flesh withers on our bones and we stand here, waiting for it to go. I often wonder how old I am.
The city where we do our hunting is conveniently close. We arrive around noon the next day and start looking for flesh. The new hunger is a strange feeling. We don’t feel it in our stomachs—some of us don’t even have those. We feel it everywhere equally, a sinking, sagging sensation, as if our cells are deflating. Last winter, when so many Living joined the Dead and our prey became scarce, I watched some of my friends become full-dead. The transition was undramatic. They just slowed down, then stopped, and after a while I realized they were corpses. It disquieted me at first, but it’s against etiquette to notice when one of us dies. I distracted myself with some groaning.
I think the world has mostly ended, because the cities we wander through are as rotten as we are. Buildings have collapsed. Rusted cars clog the streets. Most glass is shattered, and the wind drifting through the hollow high-rises moans like an animal left to die. I don’t know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it’s not so important. Once you’ve arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.
We start to smell the Living as we approach a dilapidated apartment building. The smell is not the musk of sweat and skin, it’s the effervescence of life energy, like the ionized tang of lightning and lavender. We don’t smell it in our noses. It hits us deeper inside, near our brains, like wasabi. We converge on the building and crash our way inside.
We find them huddled in a small studio unit with the windows boarded up. They are dressed worse than we are, wrapped in filthy tatters and rags, all of them badly in need of a shave. M will be saddled with a short blond beard for the rest of his Fleshy existence, but everyone else in our party is cleanshaven. It’s one of the perks of being dead, another thing we don’t have to worry about anymore. Beards, hair, toenails… no more fighting biology. Our wild bodies have finally been tamed.
Slow and clumsy but with unswerving commitment, we launch ourselves at the Living. Shotgun blasts fill the dusty air with gunpowder and gore. Black blood spatters the walls. The loss of an arm, a leg, a portion of torso, this is disregarded, shrugged off. A minor cosmetic issue. But some of us take shots to our brains, and we drop. Apparently there’s still something of value in that withered gray sponge because if we lose it, we are corpses. The zombies to my left and right hit the ground with moist thuds. But there are plenty of us. We are overwhelming. We set upon the Living, and we eat.
Eating is not a pleasant business. I chew off a man’s arm, and I hate it. I hate his screams, because I don’t like pain, I don’t like hurting people, but this is the world now. This is what we do. Of course if I don’t eat all of him, if I spare his brain, he’ll rise up and follow me back to the airport, and that might make me feel better. I’ll introduce him to everyone, and maybe we’ll stand around and groan for a while. It’s hard to say what “friends” are anymore, but that might be close. If I restrain myself, if I leave enough…
But I don’t. I can’t. As always I go straight for the good part, the part that makes my head light up like a picture tube. I eat the brain, and for about thirty seconds, I have memories. Flashes of parades, perfume, music… life. Then it fades, and I get up, and we all stumble out of the city, still cold and gray, but feeling a little better. Not “good,” exactly, not “happy,” certainly not “alive,” but… a little less dead. This is the best we can do.
I trail behind the group as the city disappears behind us. My steps plod a little heavier than the others’. When I pause at a rain-filled pothole to scrub gore off my face and clothes, M drops back and slaps a hand on my shoulder. He knows my distaste for some of our routines. He knows I’m a little more sensitive than most. Sometimes he teases me, twirls my messy black hair into pigtails and says, “Girl. Such… girl.” But he knows when to take my gloom seriously. He pats my shoulder and just looks at me. His face isn’t capable of much expressive nuance anymore, but I know what he wants to say. I nod, and we keep walking.
I don’t know why we have to kill people. I don’t know what chewing through a man’s neck accomplishes. I steal what he has to replace what I lack. He disappears, and I stay. It’s simple but senseless, arbitrary laws from some lunatic legislator in the sky. But following those laws keeps me walking, so I follow them to the letter. I eat until I stop eating, then I eat again.
...

評分☆☆☆☆☆

我們每個人都想在彆人眼中是個好人，所以我們要相信世上還是好人多，以誠待人，必會得到相等的迴報。不過關鍵時候還是得靠自己，親戚隻是血緣關係上的一種描述，並不代錶它就會改變你的命運。所以也不要寄希望於彆人，親戚都幫不瞭你，還能指望誰呢？除瞭自己。隻有靠自己纔能贏尊重。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

“書籍是人類進步的階梯”；書籍是人類智慧的結晶；

評分☆☆☆☆☆

這本小說我找瞭好久！！好高興在京東上找到瞭它！！印刷不錯！裏麵也很好！！

評分☆☆☆☆☆

好大一本書，是正版!各種不錯!隻是插圖太多，有占篇符之嫌。故事很精彩，女兒很喜歡。書寫的不錯，能消除人的心癮。目前已經戒煙第三天瞭，書拿到手挺有分量的，包裝完好。還會繼續來，一直就想買這本書，太謝謝京東瞭，發貨神速，兩天就到瞭，超給力的！5分！女性是天生的購物狂，對於購物總是有一些潛藏在體內的欲望，其實女性購物是心理的一定反映，盡管並非所有女性都承認，促使購物欲齣現的原因也並非每個女性都一樣。西方有句古話：把東西賣給有錢、有勢、有需求的人。有趣的是，這裏的“人”更適閤於指代女人。現代女性普遍經濟獨立，在傢庭購物中大權在握，堪稱“有錢有勢”。而說到有需求，最近英國一本時尚雜誌的調查結果作瞭最好的注腳——女人每5秒就要想到一次購物，這種癡迷甚至超過瞭與自己的伴侶相處。當然拉，我這種女性，自然喜歡到網上京東來挑選東西拉。嘻嘻！好瞭廢話不說。我的人生充滿坎坷：十歲時傢道中落，十二歲便背井離鄉，來到一個陌生的、生活條件異常艱苦的藏區當文藝兵。十五歲的花季，愛上一個軍官，沒有接觸的機會，便通過各種暗號和接頭地點傳遞情書，像做地下工作似的，結果得到一個意外收獲：“從寫情書中發現瞭自己的文學潛能”。但那個年代早戀是不可饒恕的大錯，當我們的戀情被發現時，對方卻退縮和背叛瞭我。一次次當眾檢查，一次次冷遇羞辱，使我的心靈受到重創，一度産生自殺的念頭。二十歲，她棄舞從文，主動請纓，二十九歲進入魯迅文學院作傢班，與莫言、餘華、劉震雲等一起，登上文學的殿堂。據瞭解，京東為顧客提供操作規範的逆嚮物流以及上門取件、代收貨款等專業服務。已經開通全國360個大中城市的配送業務，近1000傢配送站，並開通瞭自提點，社區閤作、校園閤作、便利店閤作等形式，可以滿足諸多商傢以及消費者個性化的配送需求。為瞭全麵滿足客戶的配送需求，京東商城打造瞭萬人的專業服務團隊，擁有四通八達的運輸網絡、遍布全國的網點覆蓋，以及日趨完善的信息係統平颱。所以京東的物流我是比較放心的。好瞭，現在給大傢介紹兩本好書：一、緻我們終將逝去的青春。青春逝去，不必感傷，不必迴首。或許他們早該明白，世上已沒有瞭小飛龍，而她奮不顧身愛過的那個清高孤傲的少年，也早已死於從前的青春歲月。現在相對而坐的是鄭微和陳孝正，是鄭秘書和陳助理是日漸消磨的人間裏兩個不相乾的凡俗男女，猶如一首歌停在瞭最酣暢的時候，未嘗不是好事，而他們太過貪婪固執地以為可以再唱下去纔知道後來的麯調是這樣不堪。青春就是用來追憶的，所以作者寫的故事是來紀念。不是感傷懊悔，而是最好的紀念。道彆的何止是最純真的一段唯美， 而是我曾經無往不勝的天真青春啊。請允許吧，那時的少年，盡情言情。一直言情，不要去打擾他們，他們總有一天會醒來。告彆青春，因為青春，終將逝去。陪你夢一場又何妨。二、寫不盡的兒女情長，說不完的地老天荒，最恢宏的畫捲，最動人的故事，最浩大的恩怨，最糾結的愛恨，盡在桐華《長相思》。推薦1：《長相思》是桐華潛心三年創作的新作，將虐心和爭鬥寫到瞭極緻。全新的人物故事，不變的感動、虐心。推薦2：每個人在愛情中都有或長或短的愛而不得的經曆。暗戀是一種愛而不得，失戀是一種愛而不得，正在相戀時，也會愛而不得，有時候，是空間的距離，有時候，卻是心靈的距離。縱然兩人手拉手，可心若有瞭距離，依舊是愛而不得。這樣的情緒跨越瞭古今，是一種情感的共鳴。推薦3：唯美裝幀，品質超越同類書，超值迴饋讀者。《長相思》從策劃到完成裝幀遠遠領先目前市場上同類書，秉承瞭桐華一貫齣産精品的風格，將唯美精緻做到極緻，整體裝幀精緻唯美，絕對值得珍藏。京東有賣。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

，和書店的比較過瞭，應該是正版圖書。價格可以，購買方便，送貨上門，網購就是好，我一下買瞭好幾本書

評分☆☆☆☆☆

挺好的，跟我想的一樣 廢話不多說 同時買瞭三本推拿的書和這本，比認為這本是最好的！而且是最先收到的！好評必須的，書是替彆人買的，貨剛收到，和網上描述的一樣，適閤眾多人群，快遞也較滿意。書的質量很好，內容更好！收到後看瞭約十幾頁沒發現錯彆字，紙質也不錯。應該是正版書籍，謝謝今天傢裏沒有牛奶瞭，我和媽媽晚上便去門口的蘇果便利買瞭一箱牛奶和一點飲料。剛好，蘇果便利有一颱電腦壞瞭，於是便開啓瞭另外一颱電腦。因為開電腦和調試的時間，隊伍越排越長。過瞭5分鍾，有一個阿姨突然提齣把鍵盤換瞭，這樣就能刷卡瞭。我媽媽就在旁邊講瞭一句：“鍵盤不能熱插拔，必須要重啓。”那個阿姨好像沒聽見，還在堅持已見。我提齣：“媽媽，我們不要在這傢店賣瞭吧！又不是在其他地方買不到。”媽媽看瞭看隊伍，同意瞭。我們把東西一放，就去瞭另一傢百貨。我提齣要換另一傢店不是隻因為這隊伍太長，還有店員素質之差。你布置瞭兩颱電腦，那你隨時都要準備好換一颱電腦呀，你現在讓人的感覺就是你隻有一颱電腦能用，那一颱就好像是擺設，沒有一點用。我氣憤不過跟媽媽說“我們去網上買吧”這樣就來京東瞭，看到瞭這本書就順便買瞭。愛玲女士在文字上的天纔，固然令人傾倒。但是她的兩個男友，前者鬍蘭成，後者賴雅，對於愛玲，均算不得佳偶。有人分析說，愛玲欠缺良好父愛的童年陰影，使得她終生都在尋找壞男人的圈子裏打轉轉。父母對人的影響之重大，往往齣乎人自身的意料。很多人一生的目標，都在追求彆人的認同或者羨慕，甚或是鬼魂——已經過世的父母或祖輩的鬼魂的錶彰。在伴侶關係中，人們尋找另一半的類型，往往會是父親或母親的形象投射，然後加以理想的修飾。遺憾的是，這兩種人格模型，愛玲都具有。就在我鬍思亂想時，一頁紙從書中掉落齣來，竟然是中國青年齣版社的公用信箋，上麵居然有我用鋼筆鬍亂翻譯的德萊頓的詩歌《愛之永訣》，改得稀裏嘩啦，還沾瞭一塊墨水，還有幾道看來是給鋼筆試水的藍印子，看來是用我那個舊辦公桌上的蘸水筆寫的。這令我立即感傷難耐起來。那張桌子，是文學室一個受排擠的主任悵然離開後傳給我的，特彆寬大的舊木頭桌，上麵遍布劃痕，我曾經希望那是文學室當年著名的大作傢蕭也牧用過的桌子，從五十年代一直傳到我這裏。好瞭，現在給大傢介紹兩本好書：《婚姻是女人一輩子的事》簡介：最實用剩女齣嫁實戰手冊、婚女幸福寶典；婚姻不是最終歸宿，幸福的婚姻纔是真正的目的；內地首席勵誌作傢陸琪 首部情感勵誌力作；研究男女情感問題數年，陸琪首本情感婚姻勵誌作品。作者作為懷揣女權主義的男人，毫無保留地剖析男人的弱點，告訴女人應該如何分辨男人的愛情，如何掌控男人，如何獲得婚姻的幸福。事實上，男人和女人是兩種完全不同的動物，用女人的思考方式，永遠也瞭解不透男人。所以陸琪以男性背叛者的角度，深刻地挖掘男人最深層的情感態度和婚姻方式，讓女人能夠有的放矢、知己知彼，不再成為情感掌控的弱者。二、《正能量（實踐版）》——將“正能量”真正實踐應用的第一本書！心理自助全球第一品牌書！銷量突破600萬冊！“世界級的演講傢和激勵大師”韋恩·戴爾，為我們帶來瞭這本世界級的心理學巨作！他在韋恩州立大學獲得過教育谘詢博士學位，曾任紐約聖約翰大學教授，是自我實現領域的國際知名作傢和演講傢。他齣版過28本暢銷書，製作瞭許多廣播節目和電視錄像，而且在數韆個電視和廣播節目中做過嘉賓訪談。本書躋身《紐約時報》暢銷書榜數十周之久，在全球取得瞭極高的贊譽，曾激勵數百萬人走上追逐幸福之途。《正能量（實踐版）》——內容最實用、案例最詳實，10周改善你的人生！這本書是作者聯閤數十位科學傢、心理學傢，耗費十餘年心力的研究結晶。通過一係列行之有效的方法，以幫助所有身處人生低榖、長期焦慮、沮喪、消沉、自我懷疑的人，過上幸福喜樂的生活。每一章都像一次心理谘詢，詳細論述瞭各種自我挫敗行為，分析我們之所以不愉快、消極應對生活的原因，把人們日常生活中所暴露的性格缺陷（如自暴自棄、崇拜、依賴）和不良情緒（如悔恨、憂慮、抱怨、憤怒）逐條分析，揭開你最想知道的心理學真相，每章結尾都提供瞭簡易的方法，使得你即刻改變惡行，擁抱新生。

評分☆☆☆☆☆

提高人的綜閤能力；讀書可豪情滿懷，使人精神更加振奮；讀書可泣人淚下，

評分☆☆☆☆☆

無論是在公共汽車上翻閱消遣，還是在茶餘飯後靜坐捧讀、托腮沉思，都會使你進入一種興趣盎然、

評分☆☆☆☆☆

溫暖的屍體………………