Cantitate/Preț
Produs

Hard Times

Autor Charles Dickens Adaptat de Charles Way
en Limba Engleză Paperback – 17 noi 2014
Dominated by Gradgrind and Bounderby, Coketown's prosperity is built on the cotton mills where thousands of men and women slave away for long hours and little pay. Gradgrind's obsession with material progress damages his children Louisa and Tom, leading to scandal and disaster. Hard Times celebrates the importance of the human heart in an age obsessed with materialism. Circus, music, and dark comedy all go into the rich mix of this truly Dickensian theatrical tale.

Charles Way has written over 40 plays, many of them for children and young people. He was commissioned by the National Theatre to write Alice In The News, which children all over Britain have performed. He has also written many plays for radio, and a TV poem for BBC2, No Borders, set in the Welsh borders, where he lives and has spent most of his creative life.
Citește tot Restrânge

Toate formatele și edițiile

Toate formatele și edițiile Preț Express
Paperback (64) 3228 lei  3-5 săpt. +655 lei  4-10 zile
  Bantam Books – 28 feb 1981 3228 lei  3-5 săpt. +655 lei  4-10 zile
  Penguin Random House Group – 31 dec 2000 3526 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Vintage Books USA – 4 feb 2009 3865 lei  24-30 zile +1596 lei  4-10 zile
  Oxford University Press – 8 mai 2008 3914 lei  10-16 zile +1664 lei  4-10 zile
  Penguin Books – 25 iul 2012 4418 lei  24-30 zile +1825 lei  4-10 zile
  Arcturus Publishing – 4 iul 2017 4492 lei  3-5 săpt. +806 lei  4-10 zile
  Alma Books COMMIS – 14 aug 2015 4585 lei  3-5 săpt. +1144 lei  4-10 zile
  CREATESPACE – 4991 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 5157 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Penguin Books – 26 feb 2003 5187 lei  3-5 săpt. +1119 lei  4-10 zile
  Vintage Publishing – 31 dec 2011 5960 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Random House UK – mai 2018 6206 lei  24-30 zile
  6659 lei  3-5 săpt.
  West Margin Press – 16 dec 2020 6899 lei  3-5 săpt. +1251 lei  4-10 zile
  CREATESPACE – 7100 lei  3-5 săpt.
  7180 lei  3-5 săpt.
  8121 lei  3-5 săpt.
  8182 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 8223 lei  3-5 săpt.
  9154 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 9335 lei  3-5 săpt.
  9386 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 9568 lei  3-5 săpt.
  KUPERARD (BRAVO LTD) – 7 feb 2001 9678 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 10284 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 10983 lei  3-5 săpt.
  11029 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 11176 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 13194 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6794 lei  6-8 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6834 lei  6-8 săpt.
  8526 lei  6-8 săpt.
  8710 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Lulu.Com – 9 mar 2017 8775 lei  6-8 săpt.
  8875 lei  6-8 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 3 dec 2015 9245 lei  6-8 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 3 dec 2015 9245 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Public Park Publishing – 8 ian 2020 9520 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Susan Publishing Ltd – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Public Public Books – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Yorkshire Public Books – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Toronto Public Domain Publishing – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Barclays Public Books – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Texas Public Domain – 24 iun 2020 9633 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Serenity Publishers, LLC – 23 iul 2009 9646 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Public Publishing – 25 iun 2020 9799 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Mary Publishing Company – 25 iun 2020 9799 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Camel Publishing House – 25 iun 2020 9799 lei  6-8 săpt.
  USA Public Domain Books – 25 iun 2020 9810 lei  6-8 săpt.
  CREATESPACE – 10469 lei  6-8 săpt.
  SC Active Business Development SRL – 24 apr 2017 10926 lei  38-44 zile
  Blurb – 6 feb 2019 10998 lei  38-44 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 29 noi 2015 11033 lei  6-8 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 29 noi 2015 11033 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Bibliotech Press – 7 ian 2020 11913 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Bottom of the Hill Publishing – 31 aug 2013 11953 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Prince Classics – 10 iun 2019 13218 lei  38-44 zile
  Throne Classics – 9 iul 2019 13218 lei  38-44 zile
  Sovereign – 8 oct 2012 14196 lei  38-44 zile
  Lulu.Com – 29 mar 2020 14418 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Maven Books – 30 iun 2023 17008 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Echo Library – 30 iun 2003 18358 lei  38-44 zile
  TREDITION CLASSICS – 31 dec 2012 21991 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Echo Library – 31 mar 2006 24935 lei  38-44 zile
Hardback (11) 5781 lei  3-5 săpt. +1401 lei  4-10 zile
  Flame Tree Publishing – 14 feb 2020 5781 lei  3-5 săpt. +1401 lei  4-10 zile
  EVERYMAN – 4 iun 1992 8818 lei  24-30 zile +3608 lei  4-10 zile
  Penguin Books – 5 oct 2011 9272 lei  24-30 zile +3628 lei  4-10 zile
  Mint Editions – dec 2020 12581 lei  3-5 săpt.
  chiltern publishing – 2 ian 2024 12871 lei  3-5 săpt. +2396 lei  4-10 zile
  Public Park Publishing – 16 ian 2020 12945 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Lulu.Com – 9 mar 2017 18935 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Throne Classics – 9 iul 2019 20057 lei  38-44 zile
  Prince Classics – 10 iun 2019 20282 lei  38-44 zile
  Bibliotech Press – 7 ian 2020 20855 lei  6-8 săpt.
  TREDITION CLASSICS – 31 dec 2012 33153 lei  6-8 săpt.

Preț: 6735 lei

Nou

Puncte Express: 101

Preț estimativ în valută:
1289 1339$ 1071£

Carte indisponibilă temporar

Doresc să fiu notificat când acest titlu va fi disponibil:

Preluare comenzi: 021 569.72.76

Specificații

ISBN-13: 9781906582487
ISBN-10: 1906582483
Pagini: 96
Dimensiuni: 127 x 197 x 8 mm
Greutate: 0.16 kg
Ediția:New.
Editura: Aurora Metro Press
Colecția Aurora Metro Press
Locul publicării:United Kingdom

Notă biografică

Charles Way has written over 40 plays, many of them for children and young people. He was commissioned by the National Theatre to write Alice In The News, which children all over Britain have performed. He has also written many plays for radio, and a TV poem for BBC 2, No Borders, set in the Welsh borders, where he lives and has spent most of his creative life.

Descriere

"A stellar adaptation by Charles Way, moving, thoughtful and wonderfully drawn." - What's On Stage

Extras

CHAPTER I
The One Thing Needful

“Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts, Sir!”

The scene was a plain, bare, monotonous vault of a schoolroom, and the speaker’s square forefinger emphasized his observations by underscoring every sentence with a line on the schoolmaster’s sleeve. The emphasis was helped by the speaker’s square wall of a forehead, which had his eyebrows for its base, while his eyes found commodious cellerage in two dark caves, overshadowed by the wall. The emphasis was helped by the speaker’s mouth, which was wide, thin, and hard set. The emphasis was helped by the speaker’s voice, which was inflexible, dry, and dictatorial. The emphasis was helped by the speaker’s hair, which bristled on the skirts of his bald head, a plantation of firs to keep the wind from its shining surface, all covered with knobs, like the crust of a plum pie, as if the head had scarcely warehouse-room for the hard facts stored inside. The speaker’s obstinate carriage, square coat, square legs, square shoulders,—nay, his very neckcloth, trained to take him by the throat with an unaccommodating grasp, like a stubborn fact, as it was,—all helped the emphasis.

“In this life, we want nothing but Facts, Sir; nothing but Facts!”

The speaker, and the schoolmaster, and the third grown person present, all backed a little, and swept with their eyes the inclined plane of little vessels then and there arranged in order, ready to have imperial gallons of facts poured into them until they were full to the brim.

CHAPTER II
Murdering the Innocents

Thomas Gradgrind, Sir. A man of realities. A man of facts and calculations. A man who proceeds upon the principle that two and two are four, and nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything over. Thomas Gradgrind, Sir—peremptorily Thomas—Thomas Gradgrind. With a rule and a pair of scales, and the multiplication table always in his pocket, Sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to. It is a mere question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic. You might hope to get some other nonsensical belief into the head of George Gradgrind, or Augustus Gradgrind, or John Gradgrind, or Joseph Gradgrind (all supposititious, non-existent persons), but into the head of Thomas Gradgrind—no, Sir!

In such terms Mr. Gradgrind always mentally introduced himself, whether to his private circle of acquaintance, or to the public in general. In such terms, no doubt, substituting the words “boys and girls,” for “Sir,” Thomas Gradgrind now presented Thomas Gradgrind to the little pitchers before him, who were to be filled so full of facts.

Indeed, as he eagerly sparkled at them from the cellarage before mentioned, he seemed a kind of cannon loaded to the muzzle with facts, and prepared to blow them clean out of the regions of childhood at one discharge. He seemed a galvanizing apparatus, too, charged with a grim mechanical substitute for the tender young imaginations that were to be stormed away.

“Girl number twenty,” said Mr. Gradgrind, squarely pointing with his square forefinger, “I don’t know that girl. Who is that girl?”

“Sissy Jupe, sir,” explained number twenty, blushing, standing up, and curtseying.

“Sissy is not a name,” said Mr. Gradgrind. “Don’t call yourself Sissy. Call yourself Cecilia.”

“It’s father as calls me Sissy, sir,” returned the young girl in a trembling voice, and with another curtsey.

“Then he has no business to do it,” said Mr. Gradgrind. “Tell him he mustn’t. Cecilia Jupe. Let me see. What is your father?”

“He belongs to the horse-riding, if you please, sir.”

Mr. Gradgrind frowned, and waved off the objectionable calling with his hand.

“We don’t want to know anything about that, here. You mustn’t tell us about that, here. Your father breaks horses, don’t he?”

“If you please, sir, when they can get any to break, they do break horses in the ring, sir.”

“You mustn’t tell us about the ring, here. Very well, then. Describe your father as a horsebreaker. He doctors sick horses, I dare say?”

“Oh yes, sir.”

“Very well, then. He is a veterinary surgeon, a farrier and horsebreaker. Give me your definition of a horse.”

(Sissy Jupe thrown into the greatest alarm by this demand.)

“Girl number twenty unable to define a horse!” said Mr. Gradgrind, for the general behoof of all the little pitchers. “Girl number twenty possessed of no facts, in reference to one of the commonest of animals! Some boy’s definition of a horse. Bitzer, yours.”

The square finger, moving here and there, lighted suddenly on Bitzer, perhaps because he chanced to sit in the same ray of sunlight which, darting in at one of the bare windows of the intensely whitewashed room, irradiated Sissy. For, the boys and girls sat on the face of the inclined plane in two compact bodies, divided up the centre by a narrow interval; and Sissy, being at the corner of a row on the sunny side, came in for the beginning of a sunbeam, of which Bitzer, being at the corner of a row on the other side, a few rows in advance, caught the end. But, whereas the girl was so dark-eyed and dark-haired, that she seemed to receive a deeper and more lustrous colour from the sun, when it shone upon her, the boy was so light-eyed and light-haired that the self-same rays appeared to draw out of him what little colour he ever possessed. His cold eyes would hardly have been eyes, but for the short ends of lashes which, by bringing them into immediate contrast with something paler than themselves, expressed their form. His short-cropped hair might have been a mere continuation of the sandy freckles on his forehead and face. His skin was so unwholesomely deficient in the natural tinge, that he looked as though, if he were cut, he would bleed white.

“Bitzer,” said Thomas Gradgrind. “Your definition of a horse.”

“Quadruped. Graminivorous. Forty teeth, namely twenty-four grinders, four eye-teeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring; in marshy countries, sheds hoofs, too. Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron. Age known by marks in mouth.” Thus (and much more) Bitzer.

“Now girl number twenty,” said Mr. Gradgrind. “You know what a horse is.”

She curtseyed again, and would have blushed deeper, if she could have blushed deeper than she had blushed all this time. Bitzer, after rapidly blinking at Thomas Gradgrind with both eyes at once, and so catching the light upon his quivering ends of lashes that they looked like the antennæ of busy insects, put his knuckles to his freckled forehead, and sat down again.

The third gentleman now stepped forth. A mighty man at cutting and drying, he was; a government officer; in his way (and in most other people’s too), a professed pugilist; always in training, always with a system to force down the general throat like a bolus, always to be heard of at the bar of his little Public-office, ready to fight all England. To continue in fistic phraseology, he had a genius for coming up to the scratch,2 wherever and whatever it was, and proving himself an ugly customer. He would go in and damage any subject whatever with his right, follow up with his left, stop, exchange, counter, bore his opponent (he always fought All England)3 to the ropes, and fall upon him neatly. He was certain to knock the wind out of common sense, and render that unlucky adversary deaf to the call of time. And he had it in charge from high authority to bring about the great public- office Millennium, when Commissioners should reign upon earth.

“Very well,” said this gentleman, briskly smiling, and folding his arms. “That’s a horse. Now, let me ask you girls and boys, Would you paper a room with representations of horses?”

After a pause, one half of the children cried in chorus, “Yes, Sir!” Upon which the other half, seeing in the gentleman’s face that Yes was wrong, cried out in chorus, “No, Sir!”—as the custom is, in these examinations.

“Of course, No. Why wouldn’t you?”

A pause. One corpulent slow boy, with a wheezy manner of breathing, ventured the answer, Because he wouldn’t paper a room at all, but would paint it.

“You must paper it,” said the gentleman, rather warmly.

“You must paper it,” said Thomas Gradgrind, “whether you like it or not. Don’t tell us you wouldn’t paper it. What do you mean, boy?”


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Textul de pe ultima copertă

Hard Times appeared in weekly parts in Household Words in 1854, printed on the pages usually occupied by leading articles on the major social issues of the day. In the overlapping worlds of Gradgrind's schoolroom, Bounderby the humbug industrialist and Sissy Jupe of Sleary's Circus, Dickens joyfully satirizes Utilitarianism, the self-help doctrines of Samuel Smiles and the mechanization of the mid-Victorian soul. Although it is often called Dickens's 'industrial novel', as Kate Flint argues in her new Introduction Hard Times defies easy categorization. It is a novel deeply preoccupied with childhood and family life, bursting with unresolvable tensions and contradictions and wonderfully entertaining in its metaphorical wit and invention.

Recenzii

“A masterpiece . . . a completely serious work of art.”
– F.R. Leavis
"A masterpiece...a completely serious work of art" -- F.R.Leavis "The greatest of Dickens' work...should be studied with close and earnest care" -- John Ruskin "Big and earnest, though circus folk and bank robbery add colour to its canvas of industrialists and loveless marriages" Sunday Times