在諾貝爾文學獎授獎儀式上的演說塞爾瑪.拉格洛芙閱讀答案

額，只有英文版，我從諾貝爾獎官網找到的Banquet SpeechSelma Lagerl?f"s speech at the Nobel Banquet at Grand H?tel, Stockholm, December 10, 1909(Translation)A few days ago I was sitting in the train, bound for Stockholm. It was early evening; there was little light in my compartment and none at all outside. My fellow passengers were dozing in their respective corners, and I was very quiet, listening to the rattling of the train.And then I began to think of all the other times I had come up to Stockholm. It had usually been to do something difficult - to pass examinations or to find a publisher for my manuscript. And now I was coming to receive the Prize in Literature. That, too, I thought would be difficult.All through this autumn I had lived at my old home in V?rmland in complete solitude, and now I should have to step forward in the presence of so many people. I had become shy of life"s bustle in my solitary retreat and was apprehensive at the thought of facing the world.Deep within me, however, was a wondrous joy at receiving this Prize, and I tried to dispel my anxiety by thinking of those who would rejoice at my good fortune. There were my good friends, my brothers and sisters and, first and foremost, my old mother who, sitting back home, was happy to have lived to see this day.But then I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive, and that I could not go to him and tell him that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear this. Never have I met anyone with his love and respect for the written word and its creators, and I wished that he could have known that theSwedish Academy had bestowed on me this great Prize. Yes, it was a deep sorrow to me that I could not tell him.Anyone who has ever sat in a train as it rushes through a dark night will know that sometimes there are long minutes when the coaches slide smoothly along without so much as a shudder. All rustle and bustle cease and the sound of the wheels becomes a soothing, peaceful melody. The coaches no longer seem to run on rails and sleepers but glide into space. Well, that is how it was as I sat there and thought how much I should like to see my old father again. So light and soundless was the movement of the train that I could hardly imagine I was on this earth. And so I began to daydream: ?Just think, if I were going to meet Father in Paradise! I seem to have heard of such things happening to other people - why, then, not to myself?? The train went gliding on but it had a long way to go yet, and my thoughts raced ahead of it. Father will certainly be sitting in a rocking chair on a veranda, with a garden full of sunshine and flowers and birds in front of him. He will be reading Fritjofs saga, of course, but when he sees me he will put down his book, push his spectacles high up on his forehead, and get up and walk toward me. He will say, ?Good day, my daughter, I am very glad to see you?, or ?Why, you are here, and how are you, my child?, just as he always used to do.He will settle again in his rocking chair and only then begin to wonder why I have come to see him. ?You are sure there is nothing amiss?? he will ask suddenly. ?No, Father, all is well?, I will reply. But then, just as I am about to break my news to him, I will decide to keep it back just a while longer and try the indirect approach. ?I have come to ask you for advice, Father,? I will say, ?for I am very heavily in debt.??I am afraid you will not get much help from me in this matter?, Father will reply. ?One may well say of this place that, like the old estates in our V?rmland, it has everything except money.??Ah, but it is not money that I owe, Father.? ?But that"s even worse?, Father will say. ?Begin right at the beginning, daughter.??It is not too much to ask that you should help, Father, for it was all your fault right from the beginning. Do you remember how you used to play the piano and sing Bellman"s songs to us children and how, at least twice every winter, you would let us read Tegnér and Runeberg and Andersen? It was then that I first fell into debt. Father, how shall I ever repay them for teaching me to love fairy tales and sagas of heroes, the land we live in and all of our human life, in all its wretchedness and glory??Father will straighten up in his rocking chair and a wonderful look will come into his eyes. ?I am glad that I got you into this debt?, he will say. ?Yes, you may be right, Father, but then remember that that is not all of it. Think how many creditors I have. Think of those poor, homeless vagabonds who used to travel up and down V?rmland in your youth, playing the fool and singing all those songs. What do I not owe to them, to their mischief and mad pranks! And the old men and women sitting in their small grey cottages as one came out of the forest, telling me wonderful stories of water-sprites and trolls and enchanted maidens lured into the mountains. It was they who taught me that there is poetry in hard rocks and black forests. And think, Father, of all those pale, hollow-cheeked monks and nuns in their dark cloisters, the visions they saw and the voices they heard. I have borrowed from their treasure of legends. And our own peasants who went to Jerusalem - do I owe them nothing for giving me such glorious deeds to write about? And I am in debt not only to people; there is the whole of nature as well. The animals that walk the earth, the birds in the skies, the trees and flowers, they have all told me some of their secrets.?Father will smile and nod his head and look not at all worried. ?But don"t you understand, Father, that I carry a great burden of debt?? I will say, and look more and more serious. ?No one on earth knows how I can repay it, but I thought that you, in Heaven, would know.? ?We do?, Father will say and be as carefree and relaxed as he used to be. ?Never fear, child, there is a remedy for your trouble.??Yes, Father, but that"s not all. I am also heavily in debt to those who have formed and moulded our language into the good instrument that it is, and taught me to use it. And, then, am I not in debt to those who have written in prose and in verse before my time, who have turned writing into art, the torchbearers, the pathfinders? The great Norwegians, the great Russians who wrote when I was a child, do I not owe them a thousand debts? Has it not been given to me to live in an age in which my own country"s literature has reached its highest peak, to behold the marble emperors of Rydberg, the world of Snoilsky"s poetry, Strindberg"s cliffs, Geijerstam"s countryfolk, the modern men of Anne-Charlotte Edgren and Ernst Ahlgren,Heidenstam"s Orient? Sophie Elkan, who has brought history to life, Fr?ding and his tales of V?rmland"s plains, Levertin"s legends, Hallstr?m"s Thanatos, and Karlfeldt"s Dalekarlian sketches, and much else that was young and new, all that nourished my fantasy, drove me on to compete, and made the dreams bear fruit - do I not owe them anything???Yes, yes?, Father will say. ?You are right, yours is a heavy debt but, never fear, we will find a way.??I don"t think, Father, that you really understand how hard it is for me. You don"t realize that I am also in debt to my readers. I owe them so much - from the old King and his youngest son, who sent me on my apprentice"s wanderings through the South, to the small schoolchildren who scribbled a letter of thanks for Nils Holgersson. What would have become of me if no one had wanted to read my books? And don"t forget all those who have written of me. Remember the famous Danish critic who, with a few words, won me friends all over Denmark! And he who could mix gall and ambrosia in a more masterly fashion than anyone in Sweden had ever done before his time. Now he is dead. Think of all those in foreign lands who have worked for me. I owe them gratitude, Father, both for their praise and for their censure.??Yes, yes?, Father will say, and I shall see him look a little less calm. Surely, he will begin to understand that it will not be easy to help me.?Remember all who have helped me, Father!? I shall say. ?Think of my faithful friend, Esselde, who tried to open doors for me when no one dared to believe in me. Think of others who have cared for and protected my work! Think of my good friend and travelling companion, who not only took me south and showed me all the glories of art but made life itself happier and lighter for me. All the love that has come to me, the honours, the distinctions! Do you not understand now that I had to come to you to ask how such debts can be paid??Father has lowered his head and does not look so hopeful any more.?I agree, Daughter, it is not going to be easy to find help for you but, surely, there is nothing more you owe anyone???Yes, Father, I have found it difficult enough to bear all that I owed before, but my biggest debt has not yet come. That is why I had to come to you for advice.?I cannot understand how you could owe still more?, Father will say. ?Oh, yes ?, I will reply, and then I will tell him all about this.?I just cannot believe the Academy... ?, Father will say but, looking at me and seeing my face, he will know it is all true. And, then, every wrinkle in his face will tremble and tears will come into his eyes.?What am I to say to those who put my name up for the Prize and to those who have made the decision - think, Father, it is not only honour and money they are bestowing on me. They have shown that they have trust enough in me to single me out before the whole world. How shall I repay this debt??Father will sit and still no words will come as he thinks. Then, drying tears of joy from his eyes, he will bang down his fist on the arm of the rocking chair and say, ?I will not rack my brains about problems that no one in Heaven or on earth can solve. I am too happy that you have been given the Nobel Prize to worry about anything!?Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen - having received no better answer than this to all my questions, it only remains to me to ask you to join me in the toast which I have the honour to propose to the Swedish Academy.From Nobel Lectures, Literature 1901-1967, Editor Horst Frenz, Elsevier Publishing Company, Amsterdam, 1969

在諾貝爾文學獎授獎儀式上的演說塞爾瑪.拉格洛芙閱讀答案

我來回答這個問題。

列夫·托爾斯泰沒有獲得過諾貝獎。

他應該得獎，但是瑞典皇家科學院沒有評選他。

諾貝爾文學獎從1901年開始頒發。

而老托爾斯泰死于1910年11月20日。

他有足足十年時間完全夠格獲得諾貝爾文學獎。

托爾斯泰沒有獲獎，是因為當時的評委認為他的小說不足以獲獎。

那么，評委們認為什么樣的人勝過托爾斯泰呢

請看1901年到1910年的諾貝爾文學獎得主：1901年 蘇利·普呂多姆（1839～1907）法國詩人。

1902年 特奧多爾·蒙森（1817～1903）德國歷史學家1903年比昂斯滕·比昂松（1832～1910）挪威戲劇家、詩人、小說家1904年 弗雷德里克·米斯塔爾（1830～1914）法國詩人。

何塞·埃切加賴（1832～1916）西班牙戲劇家、詩人。

1905年 亨利克·顯克維支（1846～1916）波蘭小說家。

1906年 喬祖埃·卡爾杜齊（1835～1907）意大利詩人、文藝批評家1907年 約瑟夫·魯德亞德·吉卜林（1865～1936）英國小說家、詩人。

1908年 魯道爾夫·歐肯（1946～1926）德國哲學家。

1909年 西爾瑪·拉格洛夫（女）（1858～1940）瑞典兒童文學作家。

代表作《騎鵝旅行記》1910年 保爾·約翰·路德維希·馮·海塞，德國作家這十個人，一百年后來看，其成就根本不能與托爾斯泰相比。

而且其中大部分今天看來都不再是世界知名的作家。

由此可見，托爾斯泰未能獲獎，絕不是托爾斯泰的遺憾，而是諾貝爾文學獎的遺憾，是瑞典皇家科學院的遺憾。

事實上，在托爾斯泰生前，當時歐洲的名流曾經聯名寫信給瑞典皇家科學院，抗議托爾斯泰未能獲獎。

《我最喜歡的一句話》演講稿

我所喜歡的名言警句，當然不僅僅一句，它們能給我以自信和力量，還可以時刻鞭策著我，讓我辨別世界上的真，善，美和假，丑，惡，激勵著我前進。

其中，但丁說過的一句話：“人不能像走獸那樣活著，應該追求知識和美德。

”讓我一直銘記在心。

是呀，但丁說得對，身為人類，我們與其他動物的最大區別除了我們會使用勞動工具以外，就是我們還有著不同與其他動物的思想與道德倫理，所以我們提倡終生學習就是為了完善我們的知識面與道德修養。

高爾基曾經說過：“書是人類進步的階梯，終生的伴侶，最誠摯的朋友。

”書能幫我們擴大知識面;書能解開我們心中的謎團;書能讓我們寫出優美的文章;書還能陶冶人的感情和氣質，使人高尚……書是人類必不可少的營養品。

但丁的這句話使我受益匪淺。

記得我以前總是不愛讀書，認為那是一個苦差事，又要浪費一大堆時間。

但是，自從上了一年級之后，我才發現我的“庫存”早已不足，于是，我便從這時起如饑似渴地讀書，也漸漸愛上了讀書，每逢周末有時間，我都會到書店“充充電”，就是因為這樣，所以，我的作文水平比原來寫得好多啦!讀書可以提高我們的閱讀能力;讀書可以讓我們在這個充滿競爭的社會上立于不敗之地。

總之，愛好讀書是好事，讓我們都來知識的海洋里遨游吧!老師、同學們早上好!今天，我演講的題目是《我最喜歡的一句經典名言》。

我最喜歡的一句名言是希臘著名學者亞里士多德說：“良好的開端是成功的一半。

”“良好的開端是成功的一半。

”不僅因為這句話使我增強了自信心，也使我邁出了成功的一步。

在一次班隊會課上，班主任叫我們上臺演講《我最欽佩的一種行為》時。

我始終沒有勇氣上臺演講，直到有一個同學說要下課了，我才鼓起勇氣上去。

當面對那一排排黑壓壓的人頭和一張張熟悉的面孔時，我似乎下定了決心，于是，我結結巴巴地說了幾句就下去了。

雖然沒有想象中的那么完美，但是，我還是為自己的行為感到高興，感到驕傲!心里無比的高興，因為我已經走出了成功的一步。

在人生的道路上，挫折和挑戰總是會有的，你不可能一帆風順地度過一生。

只要你相信路是人走出來的，當你遇到困難時，你就會勇往直前。

只有你經過挫折后才會知道：挫折過后隨之而來的是甘甜。

在諾貝爾文學獎授獎儀式上的演說

額，只有英文版，我從諾貝爾獎官網找到的Banquet SpeechSelma Lagerl?f"s speech at the Nobel Banquet at Grand H?tel, Stockholm, December 10, 1909(Translation)A few days ago I was sitting in the train, bound for Stockholm. It was early evening; there was little light in my compartment and none at all outside. My fellow passengers were dozing in their respective corners, and I was very quiet, listening to the rattling of the train.And then I began to think of all the other times I had come up to Stockholm. It had usually been to do something difficult - to pass examinations or to find a publisher for my manuscript. And now I was coming to receive the Prize in Literature. That, too, I thought would be difficult.All through this autumn I had lived at my old home in V?rmland in complete solitude, and now I should have to step forward in the presence of so many people. I had become shy of life"s bustle in my solitary retreat and was apprehensive at the thought of facing the world.Deep within me, however, was a wondrous joy at receiving this Prize, and I tried to dispel my anxiety by thinking of those who would rejoice at my good fortune. There were my good friends, my brothers and sisters and, first and foremost, my old mother who, sitting back home, was happy to have lived to see this day.But then I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive, and that I could not go to him and tell him that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear this. Never have I met anyone with his love and respect for the written word and its creators, and I wished that he could have known that theSwedish Academy had bestowed on me this great Prize. Yes, it was a deep sorrow to me that I could not tell him.Anyone who has ever sat in a train as it rushes through a dark night will know that sometimes there are long minutes when the coaches slide smoothly along without so much as a shudder. All rustle and bustle cease and the sound of the wheels becomes a soothing, peaceful melody. The coaches no longer seem to run on rails and sleepers but glide into space. Well, that is how it was as I sat there and thought how much I should like to see my old father again. So light and soundless was the movement of the train that I could hardly imagine I was on this earth. And so I began to daydream: ?Just think, if I were going to meet Father in Paradise! I seem to have heard of such things happening to other people - why, then, not to myself?? The train went gliding on but it had a long way to go yet, and my thoughts raced ahead of it. Father will certainly be sitting in a rocking chair on a veranda, with a garden full of sunshine and flowers and birds in front of him. He will be reading Fritjofs saga, of course, but when he sees me he will put down his book, push his spectacles high up on his forehead, and get up and walk toward me. He will say, ?Good day, my daughter, I am very glad to see you?, or ?Why, you are here, and how are you, my child?, just as he always used to do.He will settle again in his rocking chair and only then begin to wonder why I have come to see him. ?You are sure there is nothing amiss?? he will ask suddenly. ?No, Father, all is well?, I will reply. But then, just as I am about to break my news to him, I will decide to keep it back just a while longer and try the indirect approach. ?I have come to ask you for advice, Father,? I will say, ?for I am very heavily in debt.??I am afraid you will not get much help from me in this matter?, Father will reply. ?One may well say of this place that, like the old estates in our V?rmland, it has everything except money.??Ah, but it is not money that I owe, Father.? ?But that"s even worse?, Father will say. ?Begin right at the beginning, daughter.??It is not too much to ask that you should help, Father, for it was all your fault right from the beginning. Do you remember how you used to play the piano and sing Bellman"s songs to us children and how, at least twice every winter, you would let us read Tegnér and Runeberg and Andersen? It was then that I first fell into debt. Father, how shall I ever repay them for teaching me to love fairy tales and sagas of heroes, the land we live in and all of our human life, in all its wretchedness and glory??Father will straighten up in his rocking chair and a wonderful look will come into his eyes. ?I am glad that I got you into this debt?, he will say. ?Yes, you may be right, Father, but then remember that that is not all of it. Think how many creditors I have. Think of those poor, homeless vagabonds who used to travel up and down V?rmland in your youth, playing the fool and singing all those songs. What do I not owe to them, to their mischief and mad pranks! And the old men and women sitting in their small grey cottages as one came out of the forest, telling me wonderful stories of water-sprites and trolls and enchanted maidens lured into the mountains. It was they who taught me that there is poetry in hard rocks and black forests. And think, Father, of all those pale, hollow-cheeked monks and nuns in their dark cloisters, the visions they saw and the voices they heard. I have borrowed from their treasure of legends. And our own peasants who went to Jerusalem - do I owe them nothing for giving me such glorious deeds to write about? And I am in debt not only to people; there is the whole of nature as well. The animals that walk the earth, the birds in the skies, the trees and flowers, they have all told me some of their secrets.?Father will smile and nod his head and look not at all worried. ?But don"t you understand, Father, that I carry a great burden of debt?? I will say, and look more and more serious. ?No one on earth knows how I can repay it, but I thought that you, in Heaven, would know.? ?We do?, Father will say and be as carefree and relaxed as he used to be. ?Never fear, child, there is a remedy for your trouble.??Yes, Father, but that"s not all. I am also heavily in debt to those who have formed and moulded our language into the good instrument that it is, and taught me to use it. And, then, am I not in debt to those who have written in prose and in verse before my time, who have turned writing into art, the torchbearers, the pathfinders? The great Norwegians, the great Russians who wrote when I was a child, do I not owe them a thousand debts? Has it not been given to me to live in an age in which my own country"s literature has reached its highest peak, to behold the marble emperors of Rydberg, the world of Snoilsky"s poetry, Strindberg"s cliffs, Geijerstam"s countryfolk, the modern men of Anne-Charlotte Edgren and Ernst Ahlgren,Heidenstam"s Orient? Sophie Elkan, who has brought history to life, Fr?ding and his tales of V?rmland"s plains, Levertin"s legends, Hallstr?m"s Thanatos, and Karlfeldt"s Dalekarlian sketches, and much else that was young and new, all that nourished my fantasy, drove me on to compete, and made the dreams bear fruit - do I not owe them anything???Yes, yes?, Father will say. ?You are right, yours is a heavy debt but, never fear, we will find a way.??I don"t think, Father, that you really understand how hard it is for me. You don"t realize that I am also in debt to my readers. I owe them so much - from the old King and his youngest son, who sent me on my apprentice"s wanderings through the South, to the small schoolchildren who scribbled a letter of thanks for Nils Holgersson. What would have become of me if no one had wanted to read my books? And don"t forget all those who have written of me. Remember the famous Danish critic who, with a few words, won me friends all over Denmark! And he who could mix gall and ambrosia in a more masterly fashion than anyone in Sweden had ever done before his time. Now he is dead. Think of all those in foreign lands who have worked for me. I owe them gratitude, Father, both for their praise and for their censure.??Yes, yes?, Father will say, and I shall see him look a little less calm. Surely, he will begin to understand that it will not be easy to help me.?Remember all who have helped me, Father!? I shall say. ?Think of my faithful friend, Esselde, who tried to open doors for me when no one dared to believe in me. Think of others who have cared for and protected my work! Think of my good friend and travelling companion, who not only took me south and showed me all the glories of art but made life itself happier and lighter for me. All the love that has come to me, the honours, the distinctions! Do you not understand now that I had to come to you to ask how such debts can be paid??Father has lowered his head and does not look so hopeful any more.?I agree, Daughter, it is not going to be easy to find help for you but, surely, there is nothing more you owe anyone???Yes, Father, I have found it difficult enough to bear all that I owed before, but my biggest debt has not yet come. That is why I had to come to you for advice.?I cannot understand how you could owe still more?, Father will say. ?Oh, yes ?, I will reply, and then I will tell him all about this.?I just cannot believe the Academy... ?, Father will say but, looking at me and seeing my face, he will know it is all true. And, then, every wrinkle in his face will tremble and tears will come into his eyes.?What am I to say to those who put my name up for the Prize and to those who have made the decision - think, Father, it is not only honour and money they are bestowing on me. They have shown that they have trust enough in me to single me out before the whole world. How shall I repay this debt??Father will sit and still no words will come as he thinks. Then, drying tears of joy from his eyes, he will bang down his fist on the arm of the rocking chair and say, ?I will not rack my brains about problems that no one in Heaven or on earth can solve. I am too happy that you have been given the Nobel Prize to worry about anything!?Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen - having received no better answer than this to all my questions, it only remains to me to ask you to join me in the toast which I have the honour to propose to the Swedish Academy.From Nobel Lectures, Literature 1901-1967, Editor Horst Frenz, Elsevier Publishing Company, Amsterdam, 1969

尼爾斯騎鵝歷險記感想20字

《尼爾斯騎鵝旅行記》 拉格洛芙（Selma Lagerof，1858～1940）是的優秀女作家，1909年獲得了諾貝爾文學獎金。

拉格洛芙生于的一個陸軍中尉家中。

她從小喜歡聽祖母講故事，喜歡讀書，立志要當一個作家。

長大后，她在一座小城當了十年中學的地理教師。

在任教期間，她開始了文學創作，寫出了許多優秀的短篇小說。

《尼爾斯騎鵝旅行記》是她唯一為兒童而寫的長篇童話，它是根據的要求，作為一部學校地理教育讀物而寫的，不料它在以后竟成為了世界文學藝術的珍品。

因為拉格洛芙的巨大成就，1914年她被選為瑞典會員。

在瑞典，現在有一項最重要的兒童文學獎，就是用尼爾斯這名字命名的。

由于其文學貢獻，從1991年開始，她的肖像出現在瑞典貨幣20克朗鈔票上。

補充： 《尼爾斯騎鵝旅行記》講一個不愛學習、喜歡惡作劇的頑皮孩子尼爾斯，因為一次捉弄，而被用魔法變成了一個小人。

他騎在他家的大白鵝背上，跟著一群大雁出發作長途旅行。

通過這次奇異的旅行，尼爾斯增長了很多見識，結識了許多朋友，也碰到過好幾個兇惡陰險的敵人。

他在種種困難和危險中受到了鍛煉，最后尼爾斯回到了家中，恢復原形，變成了一個。

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