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作品:Synge And The Ireland Of His Time 作者:叶芝 字数: 下载本书  举报本章节错误/更新太慢

    Once  seemed to me t a conventional descriptive passage encumbered tion at t of crisis. I liked tter to t is, for all ty of its end, its mood of Greek tragedy, too passive in suffering; and ed from Mattroduction to Empedocles on Etna, Synge ans is a curious t quot;to t; succeeds  not ;t; o to great popularity in Dublin, partly because actical instinct of an Irisrators against tre, ed it for applause. It is noo t like to deny altoget understand. Yet I am certain t, in tesque plays y, t laugern orld most of all, en of timacy ry  t sayings in tame indeed compared  any little tage of Geesala, or Carraroe, or Dingle Bay.

    It is trangest, t beautiful expression in drama of t Irisasy, ure t  of Ireland itself (compare tastic Iris of ttle of Clontarf ) is ter of Irised in miscravagance, like t of ts curse upon  I e, t is ing for my soul, t are ing for my body, my cing for my   in t took out of anger terness old me tale on  killed ill  ao America. Despite ty of   trinity College brancing , or as tainly do s are telling  a time took to tain Dublin papers  to an imaginary loyalty, so possessed by iric fantasy, t one all but looked to find some featones. Part of t of cro somebody ake t for gloomy earnest. e are mocking at y, let us t ill, and t. ions ? Our minds, being sufficient to t  are content to elaborate our extravagance, if fortune aid, into  or lyric beauty, and as for t ts  tongues at the rising moon.

    t of t celebrated makers of comedy to our time, and if it ill in tion of t is but because t been able to turn out of trick of zeal picked up in struggling yout, in Synges plays also, fantasy gives t t, for t art, an over?poain virtues, and our capacity for s vision is t. Great art c first by its coldness or its strangeness, by  it is from ties it y, as t  and er ser does ure, reversed in a looking?glass t , not as it seems to eyes   as  morning; and range as tay rangeness, not strange to  made us sy t makes us share his feeling.

    to speak of ones emotions  fear or moral ambition, to come out from under to forget to be utterly oneself, t is all tal in trates in t a trute in abstract ecstasy, and touc is tory, its suspension in a beautiful or terrible ligo a t, and yet, because all its days  Day, judged already. It may saly as Dante did, or Greek myts, or Kerry and Gal ever after I s all  I kno Cino da Pistoia t Dante unjust, t Keats kne try men and  me; t I o my being, not my knowledge.