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Across the Plains, with Other Memories and Essays — обложка книги
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Across the Plains, with Other Memories and Essays

Автор Роберт Льюис Стивенсон
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Дата написания1970-01-01
Язык книгиen
Возрастное ограничение12+
Жанры
литература 19 веказарубежная классиказарубежная старинная литература

Описание

Книга представляет собой сборник воспоминаний и размышлений автора о путешествии через Америку, столкновениях с культурными различиями, природе Тихого океана, жизни в художественных сообществах и личных поисках смысла, объединённых в единый поток наблюдений и философских рассуждений.

Главный конфликт / проблема

Книга исследует конфликт между культурными предрассудками и реальными человеческими качествами, а также внутреннюю борьбу автора за смысл и идентичность в новом мире.

Ключевые идеи

  • Хаос и трудности эмиграции в 19‑веке
  • Культурные различия между Европой и Америкой
  • Важность имён и ландшафта в восприятии страны
  • Проблемы коммуникации и ожиданий в американском обществе
  • Организация и социальные нормы в эмигрантском поезде.
  • Экономические схемы и взаимопомощь среди пассажиров.
  • Эмоциональное воздействие открытых пространств и изоляции.
  • Расистские предрассудки и их влияние на иммигрантов
  • Путешествие по пустыням и горам как метафора внутреннего поиска
  • Влияние океана и лесных пожаров на природу и климат Монтерей
  • Монтерей как символ перехода от мексиканского к американскому влиянию и последующего упадка.
  • Кредитная культура и «tick» как проявление экономической зависимости мексиканцев.

Вывод

Книга приводит к выводу, что опыт эмиграции, столкновения с предрассудками и открытие природы и искусства позволяют человеку обрести более глубокое понимание себя и мира, подчёркивая важность эмпатии, честности и внутреннего удовлетворения.

Кому полезна

  • Студенты истории и культурологии
  • Путешественники и любители эмиграционных историй
  • Творческие люди и художники
  • Люди, интересующиеся философией и моралью

Главные темы

  • Путешествие и эмиграция
  • Культурные столкновения и предрассудки
  • Природа и ландшафты Тихого океана
  • Жизнь в художественных сообществах
  • Личностный рост и внутренний поиск
  • Моральные и философские размышления

Персонажи

  • Нарратор — Опытный путешественник, наблюдающий за поездкой, критически относится к расистским предрассудкам, описывает поездку и природу Тихого океана, сохраняет воспоминания о жизни в Барбизоне, описывает встречи с солдатом и резаком, размышляет о бедности и пишет письмо
  • Аретуса — Лёгкий, но небрежно одетый, носит книги Карла Орлеанского и Мишеля, а также свои нераспечатанные рондо
  • Кислота — Путешествует вместе с Аретусой, часто размышляет, но в итоге попадает под подозрение, но избегает наказания
  • Эмигрантский агент — Бедный, бритый человек, который помогает зарегистрировать багаж и советует оставаться в покое
  • Портёр — Суетливый и раздражённый, пытается переместить пассажиров и багаж
  • Мать с ребёнком — Старается защитить ребёнка, но не обращает внимания на вмешательство нарратора
  • Голландская вдова — Практичная и скептическая, но открытая к общению
  • Чёрный официант — Обучает нарратора американским обычаям, объясняет, что чаевые не принято давать
  • Немецкий пассажир — Пьяный и громкий, пытается общаться, но из-за усталости не удаётся
  • Кондуктор — Строгий, выгоняет пьющего пассажира
  • Белый чиновник — Собирает имена и распределяет пассажиров по вагонам
  • Старый мужчина — Отказался от предложения, считая его неподходящим

Цитаты

  • "The sun rises with a different splendour in America and Europe."
  • "Never. They considered themselves too highly to accept."
  • The train toiled over this infinity like a snail; and being the one thing moving, it was wonderful what huge proportions it began to assume in our regard.
  • The newsboy with whom we started from the Transfer was a dark, bullying, contemptuous, insolent scoundrel, who treated us like dogs.
  • They declared them hideous vermin, and affected a kind of choking in the throat when they beheld them.
  • I have discovered a plan to make it broader, with which I here endow the public.
  • «The history of Monterey has yet to be written.»
  • «The Mexicans, although in the State are out of it. They still preserve a sort of international independence, and keep their affairs snug to themselves.»
  • "ET EGO IN ARCADIA VIXI"
  • "Il faut faire de la peinture nouvelle"

Сводка по автору из Wikidata

1850–1894. Robert Louis Stevenson. шотландский писатель и поэт (1850–1894)

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Across The Plains by Robert Louis Stevenson

CHAPTER I ACROSS THE PLAINS

LEAVES FROM THE NOTEBOOK OF AN EMIGRANT BETWEEN NEW YORK AND SAN FRANCISCO

MONDAY. - It was, if I remember rightly, five o'clock when we were all signalled to be present at the Ferry Depot of the railroad. An emigrant ship had arrived at New York on the Saturday night, another on the Sunday morning, our own on Sunday afternoon, a fourth early on Monday; and as there is no emigrant train on Sunday a great part of the passengers from these four ships was concentrated on the train by which I was to travel. There was a babel of bewildered men, women, and children. The wretched little booking-office, and the baggage-room, which was not much larger, were crowded thick with emigrants, and were heavy and rank with the atmosphere of dripping clothes. Open carts full of bedding stood by the half-hour in the rain. The officials loaded each other with recriminations. A bearded, mildewed little man, whom I take to have been an emigrant agent, was all over the place, his mouth full of brimstone, blustering and interfering. It was plain that the whole system, if system there was, had utterly broken down under the strain of so many passengers.

My own ticket was given me at once, and an oldish man, who preserved his head in the midst of this turmoil, got my baggage registered, and counselled me to stay quietly where I was till he should give me the word to move. I had taken along with me a small valise, a knapsack, which I carried on my shoulders, and in the bag of my railway rug the whole of BANCROFT'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, in six fat volumes. It was as much as I could carry with convenience even for short distances, but it insured me plenty of clothing, and the valise was at that moment, and often after, useful for a stool. I am sure I sat for an hour in the baggage- room, and wretched enough it was; yet, when at last the word was passed to me and I picked up my bundles and got under way, it was only to exchange discomfort for downright misery and danger.

I followed the porters into a long shed reaching downhill from West Street to the river. It was dark, the wind blew clean through it from end to end; and here I found a great block of passengers and baggage, hundreds of one and tons of the other. I feel I shall have a difficulty to make myself believed; and certainly the scene must have been exceptional, for it was too dangerous for daily repetition. It was a tight jam; there was no fair way through the mingled mass of brute and living obstruction. Into the upper skirts of the crowd porters, infuriated by hurry and overwork, clove their way with shouts. I may say that we stood like sheep, and that the porters charged among us like so many maddened sheep- dogs; and I believe these men were no longer answerable for their acts. It mattered not what they were carrying, they drove straight into the press, and when they could get no farther, blindly discharged their barrowful. With my own hand, for instance, I saved the life of a child as it sat upon its mother's knee, she sitting on a box; and since I heard of no accident, I must suppose that there were many similar interpositions in the course of the evening. It will give some idea of the state of mind to which we were reduced if I tell you that neither the porter nor the mother of the child paid the least attention to my act. It was not till some time after that I understood what I had done myself, for to ward off heavy boxes seemed at the moment a natural incident of human life. Cold, wet, clamour, dead opposition to progress, such as one encounters in an evil dream, had utterly daunted the spirits. We had accepted this purgatory as a child accepts the conditions of the world. For my part, I shivered a little, and my back ached wearily; but I believe I had neither a hope nor a fear, and all the activities of my nature had become tributary to one massive sensation of discomfort.

At length, and after how long an interval I hesitate to guess, the crowd began to move, heavily straining through itself. About the same time some lamps were lighted, and threw a sudden flare over the shed. We were being filtered out into the river boat for Jersey City. You may imagine how slowly this filtering proceeded, through the dense, choking crush, every one overladen with packages or children, and yet under the necessity of fishing out his ticket by the way; but it ended at length for me, and I found myself on deck under a flimsy awning and with a trifle of elbow-room to stretch and breathe in. This was on the starboard; for the bulk of the emigrants stuck hopelessly on the port side, by which we had entered. In vain the seamen shouted to them to move on, and threatened them with shipwreck. These poor people were under a spell of stupor, and did not stir a foot. It rained as heavily as ever, but the wind now came in sudden claps and capfuls, not without danger to a boat so badly ballasted as ours; and we crept over the river in the darkness, trailing one paddle in the water like a wounded duck, and passed ever and again by huge, illuminated steamers running many knots, and heralding their approach by strains of music. The contrast between these pleasure embarkations and our own grim vessel, with her list to port and her freight of wet and silent emigrants, was of that glaring description which we count too obvious for the purposes of art.

The landing at Jersey City was done in a stampede. I had a fixed sense of calamity, and to judge by conduct, the same persuasion was common to us all. A panic selfishness, like that produced by fear, presided over the disorder of our landing. People pushed, and elbowed, and ran, their families following how they could. Children fell, and were picked up to be rewarded by a blow. One child, who had lost her parents, screamed steadily and with increasing shrillness, as though verging towards a fit; an official kept her by him, but no one else seemed so much as to remark her distress; and I am ashamed to say that I ran among the rest. I was so weary that I had twice to make a halt and set down my bundles in the hundred yards or so between the pier and the railway station, so that I was quite wet by the time that I got under cover. There was no waiting-room, no refreshment room; the cars were locked; and for at least another hour, or so it seemed, we had to camp upon the draughty, gaslit platform. I sat on my valise, too crushed to observe my neighbours; but as they were all cold, and wet, and weary, and driven stupidly crazy by the mismanagement to which we had been subjected, I believe they can have been no happier than myself. I bought half-a-dozen oranges from a boy, for oranges and nuts were the only refection to be had. As only two of them had even a pretence of juice, I threw the other four under the cars, and beheld, as in a dream, grown people and children groping on the track after my leavings.

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