...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记 [平装] [8岁及以上] pdf epub mobi txt 电子书 下载 2025

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☆☆☆☆☆

Joseph Krumgold（约瑟夫·葛鲁姆哥德） 著

图书标签:

• 冒险
• 儿童文学
• 成长
• 友谊
• 勇气
• 牧童
• 西班牙
• 文化
• 平装本
• 8岁+

出版社： HarperCollins US

ISBN：9780064401432

商品编码：19004847

包装：平装

出版时间：1984-04-04

用纸：胶版纸

页数：256

正文语种：英文

商品尺寸：19.3x12.95x1.27cm

内容简介

He wanted to be treated like a man, not a child.

Every summer the men of the Chavez family go on a long and difficult sheep drive to the mountains. All the men, that is, except for Miguel. All year long, twelve-year-old Miguel tries to prove that he, too, is up to the challenge'that he, too, is up to the challenge'that he, too is ready to take the sheep into his beloved Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

When his deeds go unnoticed, he prays to San Ysidro, the saint for farmers everywhere. And his prayer is answered . . . but with devastating consequences.

When you act like an adult but get treated like a child, what else can you do but keep your wishes secret and pray that they'll come true.

This is the story of a twelve-year-old Miguel Chavez, who yearns in his heart to go with the men of his family on a long and hard sheep drive to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains--until his prayer is finally answered, with a disturbing and dangerous exchange.

作者简介

Joseph Krumgold received the Newbery Medal for ...And Now Miguel. One of the few people to receive the medal twice, he was subsequently awarded it for his novel Onion John,also available in a Harper Trophy edition.

内页插图

精彩书评

"A memorable and deeply moving story of a family of New Mexican sheepherders, in which Miguel, neither child nor man, tells of his great longing to accompany men and sheep to summer pasture, and expresses his need to be recognized as a maturing individual."
-- BL.

精彩书摘

CHAPTER ONE
It was love at first sight and I was astonished that it should be happening to me because the first sight had nothing in the least alluring about it. The roads from airports to cities rarely do. I was like a man who bewilders his friends by becoming infatuated with a particularly unprepossessing woman-warts and a squint and a harelip. 'What on earth does he see in her?' I've often wondered myself. What did I see in that dreary road which was taking me to Paris?
This sudden incomprehensible love affair might have been a little less mysterious if I had arrived in France with gooseflesh anticipations of romantic garrets and dangerous liaisons in them, the Latin Quarter and champagne at five francs a bottle, and artists' studios-all the preposterous sentimental paraphernalia from absinthe to midinettes. But I had not included any of these notions in my meagre luggage, I had no preliminary yearnings towards the country. Rather the contrary. In Australia I had spent much of my time with a young woman who had visited France just before the war and had gone down with a bad attack of what someone called 'French flu'. She babbled so fervently and persistently about France and Paris that she infected me with a perverse loathing for both.
The fact nonetheless inexplicably remains. A hundred yards from the airport we passed a café ('Le Looping', with the two o's aerobatically askew to make the point clear) and puppy love overwhelmed me-puppy love from which this old dog has not yet shaken himself free. 'Le Looping' and the handful of unremarkable customers sipping their drinks on the terrace instantaneously bewitched me.
I knew, with no rational justification, that I was in a country which for me was unlike any other country. It was as though some indigenous evangelist had caused me to be 'born again'.
One life abruptly ended and another began. There and then I shed my twenty-five years. To this day, in my own head and heart I am twenty-five years younger than the miserable reality.
The passengers in the airport bus were a drab lot. It was only eighteen months since the war had ended. There had not been much time to spruce up. In my besotted state, they seemed to me as fabulous as troubadours. The houses along the road were dismal little pavilions badly in need of a coat of paint. I gaped at them as if each one were the Chateau de Versailles. And in the distance the Eiffel Tower looked so impossibly like itself as depicted on a thousand postcards and a thousand amateur paintings that the sense of unreality which I had been feeling deepened still further.
What had brought me to Paris was my eagerness to visit a writer I had admired since my school days. He and his wife were to become two of my closest friends. We saw a great deal of each other in the years ahead-in Paris, in the South of France, in the Loire Valley. Of all the countless occasions on which we laughed together, argued, drank wine, loafed on a Mediterranean beach, listened to music, none was as sheerly magical as that first evening in Paris.
Our relationship took shape from the very beginning. We were already friends by the time we left their studio and strolled together down the Boulevard de Montparnasse. For some reason, twilight in Parts, then at least, was not like twilight in any other city. It enveloped you in a wonderful blue and golden luminosity and it had its own special unidentifiable perfume. That one-and-only twilight dreamily descending on us was so unlike anything I had known that I had my first vague glimpse of a mystery which was to become more and more apparent as time went by: Parts was the city of the unexpected. You always felt as though something extraordinary were about to happen. Sometimes it did, sometimes not; but the expectation never diminished. One went on waiting.
Twilight aside, most things were in short supply in 1947. Fortunately, the writer had been familiar with Paris for thirty years or more. He was already on the right sort of terms with the proprietor of an unassuming restaurant in one of the side streets. So we were served with a mixture of raw vegetables, a sorrel omelette (I can still recall the metallic taste of that sorrel) and, thanks to the proprietor's peasant brother, some wild duck. The wine was a muscular red with a powerful rasp to it but (a symptom of French flu?) I thought I had never drunk anything so delicious. It was served in cups as if we were in the prohibition speakeasy era because otherwise less privileged customers would have been clamouring for some and there wasn't any too much to be had.
Afterwards we walked back along the boulevard towards the studio. We stopped midway for a glass of brandy at the D?me. Tourists had not yet ventured to return to Paris. The other customers on the terrace were all French, completely nondescript but fascinating because they were French. There were practically no cars on the roads. Those there were either had great charcoal-burning furnaces fixed to the back or carried dirigible-like bags of gas on their roofs. Every so often a fiacre went clip-clopping past. The air was almost startling pure. The stars were sharply visible in a translucent sky. I turned to the man at the next table and asked him for a light-speaking French for the first time in my life. I managed to make three ludicrous grammatical blunders in the course of that one short sentence. If he was amused by my linguistic ineptitude he was too polite to show it. La politesse francaise-that still existed, too.

前言/序言

穿越时空的信笺：老船长的航海日志（精装版） 书名： 穿越时空的信笺：老船长的航海日志 作者： 伊莱亚斯·范德林德 装帧： 精装 适读年龄： 10岁及以上 --- 内容简介： 《穿越时空的信笺：老船长的航海日志》并非讲述一个简单的寻宝故事，它是一部关于时间、记忆与人性坚韧的宏大史诗。本书以十八世纪末，大航海时代余晖笼罩下的世界为背景，通过一位名叫阿瑟·芬奇的老船长留下的、跨越四十余年的航海日志和数十封未曾寄出的信件，编织了一张复杂而引人入胜的时间之网。 阿瑟·芬奇，人称“铁锚”，一生追逐着传说中“永恒之岛”的踪迹。但这趟旅程的核心，并非地理上的发现，而是他对过去错误的救赎，以及对逝去爱情的无尽怀念。日志的开篇，记录着他年轻时作为见习水手，初次踏上“海妖之歌”号时的意气风发。那时的他，眼中只有风浪和荣誉，对陆地上的责任与承诺嗤之以鼻。 第一部分：风暴与誓言（1788-1795） 日志的前半部分，详尽地描绘了芬奇早年在北大西洋的艰苦生活。他不仅记录了如何躲避英法冲突的战舰，如何在冰山群中艰难航行，还细致地描绘了船员们的生活百态——从卑微的伙夫到心怀鬼胎的军官。特别引人注目的是他对加勒比海盗活动的深入观察。芬奇在一次与西班牙大帆船的遭遇中，展现了非凡的战术头脑，但也因此错过了返回故土的最后时机。 在这些关于航海技术的精确描述背后，是芬奇对故乡一位名叫伊莎贝尔的织布女的深刻思念。信件部分主要集中在这一时期，字里行间充满了热切的承诺与无法兑现的抱歉。他告诉伊莎贝尔，他会带着足够的财富和荣耀回来娶她，但每一次“下一次”都变成了遥远的未来。这段描写细腻地展现了青年人对“远方”的浪漫化想象与现实残酷之间的巨大落差。 第二部分：失落的坐标与时间之谜（1796-1810） 航程进入了更神秘的领域。芬奇带领船队深入南太平洋，试图追寻一幅由一位濒死探险家留下的、声称能指向“永恒之岛”的星图。然而，这次航行标志着芬奇人生的转折点。在一次突如其来的、持续了七昼夜的奇异磁暴中，“海妖之歌”号似乎偏离了正常的时空轨迹。 日志记录变得越来越怪诞和哲学化。芬奇开始描述一些“不该存在”的现象：海面上反射出从未见过的星座；船员们有时会回忆起尚未发生的事情；甚至在某次停靠的小岛上，他们发现了一座古老文明的遗迹，其建筑风格糅合了后世才出现的几何学原理。 芬奇坚信，永恒之岛并非一个地理上的终点，而是一个“时间上的锚点”。他开始在日志中穿插对历史事件的预言式记录，这些记录与他所处的时代背景形成了令人不安的对照。例如，他准确描述了拿破仑战争中某次关键战役的结局，但这些文字写于战役发生前数年。 第三部分：孤独的守护者与最终的信（1811-1830） 接下来的篇章，芬奇成了一位孤独的守护者。他失去了大部分船员，船只残破不堪，但他仍在坚持航行。他不再寻求财富，而是试图逆转他早期航行中犯下的错误——特别是他无意中干预了某个偏远部落的兴衰，并因此失去了伊莎贝尔的音信。 这一阶段的日志，充满了对“时间悖论”的沉思。芬奇开始怀疑，他所经历的一切，是否只是为了在某个特定的时刻，将这本日志和信件集合，交付给一个特定的接收者。他用尽最后的资源，将日志和信件用防水的鲸油皮革仔细包裹，藏入一个特殊的、由他亲手雕刻的黄铜箱中。 最后一封信，写给一个他从未谋面、但名字经常出现在他梦中的“继承人”。信中，芬奇终于承认了年轻时的傲慢与怯懦，并恳请接收者——“记住，荣耀并非来自你发现的新大陆，而是你选择如何对待你离开的旧世界。” 主题与深度： 《穿越时空的信笺》不仅仅是海盗、探险和浪漫的组合。它深入探讨了： 1. 时间的相对性： 探讨了记忆与现实如何被个人经历扭曲，以及“永恒”在不同心境下的意义。 2. 责任的代价： 芬奇的一生是对“承诺”这一主题的深刻反思。他用数十年的漂泊证明，任何伟大的征服都无法弥补对亲近之人失职的遗憾。 3. 知识的重量： 芬奇对星象、制图学和古老文明的痴迷，反映了人类对未知世界永不满足的探索欲，但他也警告，有些知识可能过于沉重，不适合人类的心灵负荷。 本书的叙事结构精妙，通过不同时间点的日志和信件交错，要求读者像解密者一样，将芬奇破碎的时间线重新拼凑起来。最终，读者将跟随老船长的目光，看到的不是黄金，而是时间洪流中，人性中不变的光芒与阴影。这本精装日志，是献给所有在迷雾中寻找方向的水手和迷失在生活中的探险家们的一份珍贵遗产。

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这本书的名字就带着一种引人入胜的神秘感，...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记，光是听着就觉得这是一段关于成长、关于探索、关于一段不平凡旅程的故事。我拿到这本书的时候，就被它的封面设计深深吸引了，那是一种质朴而又充满生机的画面，仿佛能闻到大自然的气息，感受到牧童们在大地上的奔跑和欢笑。我非常期待能够跟随主人公的脚步，去感受他所经历的一切，去理解那些他所面临的挑战和选择。8岁及以上这个推荐年龄段，也让我觉得这本书是为那些充满好奇心、渴望冒险的小读者们量身定做的，我相信它一定能够点燃孩子们的想象力，带他们进入一个充满奇幻色彩的世界。这本书的名字给我留下了一个非常深刻的第一印象，让我迫不及待地想要翻开书页，探寻隐藏在其中的故事。我尤其对“牧童历险记”这几个字感到好奇，它勾勒出了一幅画面，有广袤的草原，有自由奔放的羊群，还有一群充满活力、勇敢无畏的少年。我猜测，这本书会讲述关于友情、关于勇气、关于如何在自然环境中生存和成长的一些故事，这些都是孩子们成长过程中非常重要的主题。我希望这本书能够提供一些积极的引导，让孩子们在阅读中学习到宝贵的品质。

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《...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记》这个名字，在我听来，有一种特别的节奏感，仿佛隐藏着一段令人难以忘怀的旋律。我脑海中浮现的，并非是喧嚣都市的钢筋水泥，而是悠扬的笛声，是羊群低低的咩叫，是清晨微凉的风拂过脸颊的触感。我似乎已经能够感受到 Miguel 的身影，他可能是一个略显腼腆却内心坚毅的孩子，他的生活围绕着那些温顺的羊群，他的世界因这些生灵而充满了色彩。而“历险记”，则暗示着一段不平静的旅程，或许是意外的迷失，或许是突如其来的危险，又或者是为了某个重要目标而必须踏上的征途。我期待着，这本书能够以一种细腻而富有诗意的方式，展现 Miguel 在这段旅程中的成长轨迹，他如何从一个懵懂的少年，逐渐蜕变为一个有担当、有智慧的年轻人。我希望这本书能够带给我一种宁静而又充满力量的阅读体验，让我感受到生命的美好，以及坚韧不拔的精神。

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我一直对那些能够触及心灵深处的故事有着特别的偏爱，而《...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记》这个名字，在我看来，就蕴含着一种能够引起共鸣的力量。它不仅仅是一个简单的故事标题，更像是一个承诺，承诺将带领读者踏上一段情感丰富的旅程。我联想到许多经典的成长小说，它们往往以一个少年视角出发，展现出他们在面对未知时的迷茫、在经历挑战时的坚韧，以及在获得成长时的喜悦。《...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记》听起来就具有这样的潜力，它或许会描绘出 Miguel 的内心世界，他可能有着自己的梦想、自己的困惑，以及在追逐梦想的过程中所遭遇的种种磨难。我期待这本书能够触及孩子们内心最柔软的部分，让他们在 Miguel 的故事中找到自己的影子，感受到共鸣，甚至从中获得力量和启发。我更希望这本书能够以一种温和而又不失深刻的方式，探讨一些关于自我认知、关于家庭关系、关于友谊的重要性等主题，让孩子们在享受阅读乐趣的同时，也能获得一些关于人生道理的启示。

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《...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记》这个书名，在我脑海中勾勒出一幅充满异域风情和古老魅力的画面。我猜想，故事的主人公 Miguel 可能生活在一个与我所熟悉的现代都市截然不同的环境中，那里有广阔无垠的天地，有淳朴的生活方式，有与自然和谐共处的人们。我对于“牧童”这个角色充满了好奇，他们常常与自由、与野性、与坚韧联系在一起，仿佛是大地之子，与风雨为伴，与星辰为友。而“历险记”更是激发了我内心深处的探险欲望，我期待着 Miguel 会经历怎样惊心动魄的冒险，他会遇到哪些意想不到的困难，又将如何凭借自己的智慧和勇气去克服它们。这本书听起来不仅仅是一段冒险，更可能是一次关于成长的洗礼，一次对生命意义的探索。我非常喜欢那些能够将读者带入一个全新世界的故事，让我暂时忘却现实的烦恼，沉浸在另一个时空之中，体验别样的人生。

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“...And Now Miguel 牧童历险记”这个书名，有一种直击人心的力量，它仿佛是一个故事的开场白，邀请你去倾听，去感受。我特别注意到“And Now Miguel”，这个开头的词语，似乎预示着故事的展开，也可能暗示着 Miguel 自身存在的某种重要性，或者他将要扮演的角色。而“牧童历险记”则进一步描绘了一个充满野趣和挑战的场景，让我联想到广阔的原野，自由的风，以及一个年轻的生命，在自然的怀抱中，经历着成长与蜕变。我猜测，这本书可能会以一种非常贴近生活、贴近自然的方式，讲述 Miguel 的故事，他的喜怒哀乐，他的困惑与坚持，他的友情与亲情。我期待着，这本书能够带给我一种纯粹而又深刻的阅读感受，让我能够从 Miguel 的经历中，感受到生命的活力，以及面对困难时的勇气。我希望这本书能像一位老朋友，在安静的午后，与我分享一段关于成长、关于冒险、关于爱的故事，让我沉醉其中，久久不能忘怀。

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Miguel Chavez has dreamed of visiting the Sangre de Cristo Mountains since he was very little. This summer, he is going to work hard and pray until his father and grandfather realize that he is ready to take the trip with the rest of the older men.

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质量很好，屯着慢慢看！

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莫熙往宏元当铺取了银票，便在街上闲逛。

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阅读的重要性是不言而喻的，但对于孩子来说，阅读又有一定难度。如何能让天性好动的孩子坐下来专心阅读呢？ 首先是要树立对书的尊重和亲近。 听书也是一个人的阅读史中很重要的一页。固然，很多知识是可以从电视、从交谈、从观察、从生活中的各种渠道获得，但就深度来说，没有任何一种形式能够代替阅读。读书的速度是可快可慢的，书的内容也可以自由挑选，这比其他吸收知识的形式多了许多思考的空间，主动性更强。读的时候还可以提问、讲解，还可以有目的地查阅，这样使得一段文字的扩展性非常大。也许它只是一个引子，由它引发的探讨和追问，最后可能把人带到完全不能想象的地方。 　　培养孩子对书的兴趣，家长本人就应该有对书的热爱，一个本身就鄙视阅读、厌恶阅读的人，很难想象他的家里会有阅读的氛围。不爱书的人，他无论怎么威逼利诱，努力让孩子看书，都带有强烈的功利目的——为了考试得高分，为了写作文有词儿，为了谈话有炫耀的资本。没有真正体验到阅读的乐趣，就不可能爱上阅读，即使孩子勉强读了，也不可能保持长久的兴趣。至于阅读中的积极思考，那更是谁也强迫不了的。发自内心喜欢阅读，和被迫坐在书桌前阅读，效果差别很大。 　　如何让孩子发自内心地喜欢阅读呢？听书就是必要的一步。 　　在孩子的识字量还很小，理解力也很有限的时候，让他读书肯定读不进去。他的注意力大部分都放在识字上，没读几个字，情绪还没有进入到内容中，就已经累了，怎么可能很有兴趣地读呢？因此过早强迫孩子读书，只能把他的胃口搞坏，看到书就烦。 　　听书却可以毫不费力地让他了解书中的世界。在一些比较简单的地方，让他自己读一部分，他会很有成就感。 　　而且讲书的过程，实际上也是一个传授阅读方法的过程。你可以把有关的背景知识穿插进去，也可以提出一些疑问让孩子思考，还可以边读书边和孩子讨论；这些实际上都是很重要的学习方法，孩子耳濡目染慢慢会有所领悟。

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质量很好，屯着慢慢看！

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不错的原版书

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刺客守则四，不该讲究的地方别穷讲究。

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次日，艳阳高照。

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The title of my book was and now miguel. The author of my story is Joseph Krumgold. this book or story is based on a true story. The main charecters of my story are miguel who is not patient and gabriel who is the totall opposite of miguel, he is patient and more reliable. i think the theme of my story was to never get your hopes up.