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　　逃離，或許是舊的結束。或許是新的開始。
　　或許隻是一些微不足道的瞬間，就像看戲路上放鬆的腳步，就像午後窗邊悵然的嚮往。

內容簡介

The incomparable Alice Munro’s bestselling and rapturously acclaimed Runaway is a book of extraordinary stories about love and its infinite betrayals and surprises, from the title story about a young woman who, though she thinks she wants to, is incapable of leaving her husband, to three stories about a woman named Juliet and the emotions that complicate the luster of her intimate relationships. In Munro’s hands, the people she writes about–women of all ages and circumstances, and their friends, lovers, parents, and children–become as vivid as our own neighbors. It is her miraculous gift to make these stories as real and unforgettable as our own.

　　逃離，或許是舊的結束。或許是新的開始。或許隻是一些微不足道的瞬間，就像看戲路上放鬆的腳步，就像午後窗邊悵然的嚮往。
　　卡拉，十八歲從父母傢齣走，如今又打算逃脫丈夫和婚姻； 硃麗葉，放棄學術生涯，毅然投奔在火車上偶遇的鄉間男子；佩內洛普，從小與母親相依為命，某一天忽然消失得再無蹤影；格雷斯，已然談婚論嫁，卻在一念之間與未婚夫的哥哥齣逃瞭一個下午……
　　一次次逃離的閃念，就是這樣無法預知，無從招架，或許你早已被它們悄然逆轉，或許你早已將它們輕輕遺忘。

作者簡介

**Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature**
Alice Munro grew up in Wingham, Ontario, and attended the University of Western Ontario. She has published eleven new collections of stories-Dance of the Happy Shades; Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You; The Beggar Maid; The Moons of Jupiter; The Progress of Love; Friend of My Youth; Open Secrets; The Love of a Good Woman; Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage; Runaway; and a volume of Selected Stories-as well as a novel, Lives of Girls and Women. During her distinguished career she has been the recipient of many awards and prizes, including the Man Booker International Prize, three of Canada's Governor General's Literary Awards and two of its Giller Prizes, the Rea Award for the Short Story, the Lannan Literary Award, England's W. H. Smith Book Award, the United States' National Book Critics Circle Award, and the Edward MacDowell Medal in literature. Her stories have appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, The Paris Review, and other publications, and her collections have been translated into thirteen languages.
Alice Munro divides her time between Clinton, Ontario, near Lake Huron, and Comox, British Columbia.

　　艾麗絲·門羅（Alice Munro，1931.07.10~），加拿大女作傢，被稱為“加拿大的契科夫”。艾麗絲·門羅1931年生於加拿大加拿大渥太華，大部分時間都在這個安靜的城市度過，少女時代即開始寫小說。門羅以短篇小說見長，截至2013年10月，創作瞭11部短篇小說集和1部類似故事集的長篇小說。1968年，門羅發錶第一部短篇小說集《快樂影子舞》(Dance of the Happy Shades)，並獲得加拿大總督文學奬。其代錶作有《好蔭涼之舞》和《逃離》。門羅多次獲奬，其中包括三次加拿大總督奬，兩次吉勒奬，以及英聯邦作傢奬、歐亨利奬、筆會馬拉穆德奬和美國全國書評人奬等。2009年獲得第三屆布剋國際奬。
　　2013年10月10日，艾麗絲·門羅獲得2013年諾貝爾文學奬，獲奬理由是：“當代短篇小說大師。”愛麗絲·門羅是諾貝爾文學奬曆史上獲此殊榮的第13位女性作傢。

精彩書評

There seems nothing missing in this yet again brilliant collection...a literary inspiration'
-- Lorrie Moore

'Alice Munro has a strong claim to being the best fiction wirter in North America. Runaway is a marvel'
-- Jonathan Franzen

'Her genius cannot be denied...The contemporary writer I admire above all others'
-- Paul Bailey, The Independent

'Magic...It is a beautiful, echoing collection, and a demonstration of perfected and unflinching form'
-- Ali Smith, Scotsman

'The stories of Alice Munro make everyone else's look like the work of babies'
-- Ethan Canin

　　她是我們這個時代最偉大的短篇小說作傢。
　　——A.S.拜雅特（《隱之書》作者，布剋奬得主）

　　被中斷的人生、歲月的痕跡、生命的殘酷……艾麗絲·門羅達到瞭無以倫比的高度。
　　——《紐約時報》（美）

　　每讀艾麗絲·門羅的小說，便知道生命中曾經疏忽遺忘太多事情。
　　——布剋國際奬評語

　　令人難以忘懷的作品：語言精細獨到，情節樸實優美，令人迴味無窮。
　　——吉勒奬評語

　　喬伊斯，力壓契訶夫，每個故事中都是一個豐沛的人生。
　　——《波士頓環球報》（美）

精彩書摘

Carla heard the car coming before it topped the little rise in the road that around here they called a hill. It’s her, she thought. Mrs. Jamieson—Sylvia—home from her holiday in Greece. From the barn door—but far enough inside that she could not readily be seen—she watched the road Mrs. Jamieson would have to drive by on, her place being half a mile farther along the road than Clark and Carla’s.

If it was somebody getting ready to turn in at their gate it would be slowing down by now. But still Carla hoped. Let it not be her.

It was. Mrs. Jamieson turned her head once, quickly—she had all she could do maneuvering her car through the ruts and puddles the rain had made in the gravel—but she didn’t lift a hand off the wheel to wave, she didn’t spot Carla. Carla got a glimpse of a tanned arm bare to the shoulder, hair bleached a lighter color than it had been before, more white now than silver-blond, and an expression that was determined and exasperated and amused at her own exasperation—just the way Mrs. Jamieson would look negotiating such a road. When she turned her head there was something like a bright flash—of inquiry, of hopefulness—that made Carla shrink back.

So.

Maybe Clark didn’t know yet. If he was sitting at the computer he would have his back to the window and the road.

But Mrs. Jamieson might have to make another trip. Driv- ing home from the airport, she might not have stopped for groceries—not until she’d been home and figured out what she needed. Clark might see her then. And after dark, the lights of her house would show. But this was July, and it didn’t get dark till late. She might be so tired that she wouldn’t bother with the lights, she might go to bed early.

On the other hand, she might telephone. Any time now.

This was the summer of rain and more rain. You heard it first thing in the morning, loud on the roof of the mobile home. The trails were deep in mud, the long grass soaking, leaves overhead sending down random showers even in those moments when there was no actual downpour from the sky and the clouds looked like clearing. Carla wore a high, wide-brimmed old Australian felt hat every time she went outside, and tucked her long thick braid down her shirt.

Nobody showed up for trail rides, even though Clark and Carla had gone around posting signs in all the camping sites, in the cafes, and on the tourist office billboard and anywhere else they could think of. Only a few pupils were coming for lessons and those were regulars, not the batches of schoolchildren on vacation, the busloads from summer camps, that had kept them going through last summer. And even the regulars that they counted on were taking time off for holiday trips, or simply cancelling their lessons because of the weather being so discouraging. If they called too late, Clark charged them for the time anyway. A couple of them had complained, and quit for good.

There was still some income from the three horses that were boarded. Those three, and the four of their own, were out in the field now, poking around in the grass under the trees. They looked as if they couldn’t be bothered to notice that the rain was holding off for the moment, the way it often did for a while in the afternoon. Just enough to get your hopes up—the clouds whitening and thinning and letting through a diffuse brightness that never got around to being real sunshine, and was usually gone before supper.

Carla had finished mucking out in the barn. She had taken her time—she liked the rhythm of her regular chores, the high space under the barn roof, the smells. Now she went over to the exercise ring to see how dry the ground was, in case the five o’clock pupil did show up.

Most of the steady showers had not been particularly heavy, or borne on any wind, but last week there had come a sud- den stirring and then a blast through the treetops and a nearly horizontal blinding rain. In a quarter of an hour the storm had passed over. But branches lay across the road, hydro lines were down, and a large chunk of the plastic roofing over the ring had been torn loose. There was a puddle like a lake at that end of the track, and Clark had worked until after dark, digging a channel to drain it away.

The roof had not yet been repaired. Clark had strung fence wire across to keep the horses from getting into the mud, and Carla had marked out a shorter track.

On the Web, right now, Clark was hunting for someplace to buy roofing. Some salvage outlet, with prices that they could afford, or somebody trying to get rid of such material secondhand. He would not go to Hy and Robbert Buckley’s Building Supply in town, which he called Highway Robbers Buggery Supply, because he owed them too much money and had had a fight with them.

Clark had fights not just with the people he owed money to. His friendliness, compelling at first, could suddenly turn sour. There were places he would not go into, where he always ma Runaway逃離 英文原版 [平裝] 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書 格式

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