Ïîèñê ïî êàòàëîãó ïå÷àòíûõ èçäàíèé

Àííîòàöèÿ: Êíèãà äëÿ ÷òåíèÿ íà àíãëèéñêîì ÿçûêå.Ðîìàí "Ïîâåëèòåëü ìóõ" (1954) - ïåðâîå îïóáëèêîâàííîå ïðîèçâåäåíèå èçâåñòíîãî àíãëèéñêîãî ïèñàòåëÿ Óèëüÿìà Äæåðàëäà Ãîëäèíãà.  ýòîì ðîìàíå-ïðèò÷å îïèñàíà èñòîðèÿ ãðóïïû øêîëüíèêîâ,ïîïàâøèõ íà îñòðîâ è ïîòåðÿâøèõ ÷åëîâå÷åñêèé îáëèê. êíèãå ïðåäñòàâëåí íåàäàïòèðîâàííûé òåêñò íà ÿçûêå îðèãèíàëà

Àííîòàöèÿ: Ëåéòåíàíò ïîòåðïåâøåãî êðóøåíèå òîðïåäîíîñöà ïî èìåíè Êðèñòîôåð Ìàðòèí ïðèëàãàåò òèòàíè÷åñêèå óñèëèÿ, ÷òîáû âçîáðàòüñÿ íà íåïðèñòóïíûé óòåñ, è çàòåì - âûæèòü íà ãîëîì êëî÷êå ñóøè.  åãî ñîçíàíèè âñïëûâàþò ñöåíû èç ðàçíûõ ïåðèîäîâ æèçíè, æàëêîé, ïîäëåíüêîé, - æèçíè, êîòîðîé áîëüøå ïîäîøëî áû ñëîâî "âûæèâàíèå". Ãîëäèíã ãîâîðèë, ÷òî åãî ðîìàí - ïðèò÷à î ÷åëîâåêå, êîòîðûé ëèøèëñÿ ñíà÷àëà âñåãî, ê ÷åìó òàê ñòðåìèëñÿ, à ïîòîì "àêòîì ñâîáîäíîé âîëè ïðèíÿë âûçîâ ñâîåãî Áîãà" è âñòóïèë ñ íèì â ñîïåðíè÷åñòâî. "Òàêîâ îáû÷íûé ÷åëîâåê: ìó÷èìûé è ìó÷àþùèé äðóãèõ, âåäóùèé â îäèíî÷êó ìóæåñòâåííóþ áèòâó ïðîòèâ Áîãà".

Àííîòàöèÿ: Êíèãà äëÿ ÷òåíèÿ íà àíãëèéñêîì ÿçûêå.Ðîìàí "Ïîâåëèòåëü ìóõ" (1954) - ïåðâîå îïóáëèêîâàííîå ïðîèçâåäåíèå èçâåñòíîãî àíãëèéñêîãî ïèñàòåëÿ Óèëüÿìà Äæåðàëäà Ãîëäèíãà. ýòîì ðîìàíå-ïðèò÷å îïèñàíà èñòîðèÿ ãðóïïû øêîëüíèêîâ, ïîïàâøèõ íà îñòðîâ è ïîòåðÿâøèõ ÷åëîâå÷åñêèé îáëèê.  êíèãå ïðåäñòàâëåí íåàäàïòèðîâàííûé òåêñò íà ÿçûêå îðèãèíàëà.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Õðåñòîìàòèÿ ñîäåðæèò îòðûâêè èç ïðîèçâåäåíèé àíãëèéñêèõ è àìåðèêàíñêèõ ïèñàòåëåé ñ äðåâíåéøèõ âðåìåí äî íàøèõ äíåé.  íåé äàíû òàêæå áèîãðàôèè ïèñàòåëåé, ïðèâîäÿòñÿ êðàòêèå ñîäåðæàíèÿ èõ ñàìûõ èçâåñòíûõ è ïîïóëÿðíûõ ïðîèçâåäåíèé. Êðîìå òðàäèöèîííîãî ïåðå÷íÿ àíãëîÿçû÷íûõ àâòîðîâ â õðåñòîìàòèè ïðåäñòàâëåíû òàêèå ïèñàòåëè, êàê Ëîðåíñ Ñòåðí, Ãåíðè Äæåéìñ, Äæåðîì Ê. Äæåðîì, Àðòóð Êîíàí Äîéë, Î. Ãåíðè, Ðè÷àðä Áàõ, Äæîàí Ðîóëèíã è ìíîãèå äðóãèå, ÷üå òâîð÷åñòâî íå îñâåùàëîñü ðàíåå â ïîäîáíûõ ó÷åáíûõ ïîñîáèÿõ.  êîíöå êàæäîãî ðàçäåëà êíèãè ñîäåðæàòñÿ êîíòðîëüíûå âîïðîñû è çàäàíèÿ, ìíîãèå èç êîòîðûõ âûïîëíåíû â ôîðìàòå ÅÃÝ. Äëÿ ó÷àùèõñÿ ñðåäíèõ øêîë, ëèöååâ, ãèìíàçèé, ñòóäåíòîâ ãóìàíèòàðíûõ âóçîâ, ïðåïîäàâàòåëåé, à òàêæå äëÿ âñåõ èíòåðåñóþùèõñÿ àíãëîÿçû÷íîé ëèòåðàòóðîé.

Àííîòàöèÿ: "Äâîéíîé ÿçûê" - ïîñëåäíåå ïðîèçâåäåíèå Óèëüÿìà Ãîëäèíãà. Ïðîèçâåäåíèå îáìàí÷èâî "èñòîðè÷íîå", îáìàí÷èâî "óïðîùåííîå äëÿ âîñïðèÿòèÿ". Îäíàêî èñòîðèÿ äåëüôèéñêîé ïèôèè, áîëåçíåííî è îñòðî ïûòàþùåéñÿ îñîçíàòü ñâîå ìåñòî â ìèðå è ñâîé ïóòü âî âðåìåíè è ïðîñòðàíñòâå, ïðèòÿãèâàåò ÷èòàòåëÿ òî÷íî ñòðàííûé ìàãíèò. Ïðèòÿãèâàåò - è óäåðæèâàåò â ìèêðîêîñìå òåêñòà. Ïîòîìó ÷òî - ìîæåò, è åñòü ïðîðîêè â ñâîåì îòå÷åñòâå, íî æðåáèé ïðèçíàííûõ - òÿæåëåå ñóäüáû ãîíèìûõ...

Àííîòàöèÿ: William Golding's compelling story about a group of very ordinary small boys marooned on a coral island has become a modern classic. At first, it seems as though it's all going to be great fun; but the fun before long becomes furious and life on the island turns into a nightmare of panic and death. As ordinary standards of behavior collapse, the whole world the boys know collapses with them - the world of cricket and homework and adventure stories - another world is revealed beneath, primitive and terrible. Lord of the Flies remains as provocative today as when it was 1st published in 1954, igniting passionate debate with its startling, brutal portrait of human nature. Though critically acclaimed, it was largely ignored upon its initial publication. Yet soon it became a cult favorite among both students and literary critics who compared it to J.D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye" in its influence on modern thought and literature. Labeled a parable, an allegory, a myth, a morality tale, a parody, a political treatise, even a vision of the apocalypse, Lord of the Flies has established itself as a classic.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Õðåñòîìàòèÿ ïðåäñòàâëÿåò ñîáîé ïîñîáèå ïî êóðñó àíãëèéñêîé ëèòåðàòóðû XX âåêà äëÿ ñòóäåíòîâ ôàêóëüòåòîâ èíîñòðàííûõ ÿçûêîâ ïåäàãîãè÷åñêèõ èíñòèòóòîâ.  íåå âõîäÿò îòðûâêè èç ïðîèçâåäåíèé àíãëèéñêèõ ïèñàòåëåé è ïîýòîâ. Îòêðûâàåò êíèãó êðàòêèé î÷åðê, õàðàêòåðèçóþùèé àíãëèéñêóþ ëèòåðàòóðó ÕÕ âåêà, åå îñíîâíûå íàïðàâëåíèÿ è òåíäåíöèè. Êàæäîìó ïðåäñòàâëåííîìó â õðåñòîìàòèè àâòîðó ïðåäøåñòâóåò êðàòêàÿ áèîãðàôè÷åñêàÿ ñïðàâêà. Êíèãà çàâåðøàåòñÿ ïîäðîáíûìè ïðèìå÷àíèÿìè, äàþùèìè íåîáõîäèìûå ëèíãâèñòè÷åñêèå, ëèòåðàòóðíûå è èñòîðè÷åñêèå ïîÿñíåíèÿ.

Àííîòàöèÿ: The sole survivor of a torpedoed destroyer is miraculously cast up on a huge, barren rock in mid-Atlantic. Pitted against him are the sea, the sun, the night cold, and the terror of his isolation. At the core of this raging tale of physical and psychological violence lies Christopher Martin' s will to live as the sum total of his life.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Dean Jocelin has a vision: that God has chosen him to erect a great spire on his cathedral. His mason anxiously advises against it, for the old cathedral was built without foundations. Nevertheless, the spire rises octagon upon octagon, pinnacle by pinnacle, until the stone pillars shriek and the ground beneath it swims. Its shadow falls ever darker on the world below, and on Dean Jocelin in particular. The Spire is a dark and powerful portrait of one man's will, and the folly that he creates.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Somehow, somewhere, Sammy Mountjoy lost his freedom, the faculty of freewill 'that cannot be debated but only experienced, like a colour or the taste of potatoes'. As he retraces his life in an effort to discover why he no longer has the power to choose & decide for himself, the narrative moves between England & a POW camp in Germany.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Ñáîðíèê çíàêîìèò ÷èòàòåëÿ ñ òâîð÷åñòâîì èçâåñòíîãî àíãëèéñêîãî ïèñàòåëÿ Óèëüÿìà Ãîëäèíãà (ð. 1911). Ïðèçíàííûé ìàñòåð ôèëîñîôñêîãî èíîñêàçàíèÿ, Ó. Ãîëäèíã â àëëåãîðè÷åñêîé ôîðìå èçîáðàæàåò àêòóàëüíûå ïðîáëåìû ñîâðåìåííîãî çàïàäíîãî îáùåñòâà. Ãäå áû è êîãäà áû íè ïðîèñõîäèëî äåéñòâèå ïðîèçâåäåíèé Ãîëäèíãà - â Äðåâíåì Ðèìå, êàê â ïîâåñòè "×ðåçâû÷àéíûé ïîñîë", íà íåîáèòàåìîì îñòðîâå - "Ïîâåëèòåëü ìóõ" - èëè â ñîâðåìåííîé Àíãëèè - "Ïèðàìèäà", - ïèñàòåëü ïðåäëàãàåò çàäóìàòüñÿ íàä òðåâîæíûìè âîïðîñàìè, êîòîðûå ñòàâèò áóðæóàçíàÿ äåéñòâèòåëüíîñòü. Êíèãà ñîïðîâîæäàåòñÿ âñòóïèòåëüíîé ñòàòüåé, êîììåíòàðèÿìè è ðàññ÷èòàíà íà ñïåöèàëèñòîâ-ôèëîëîãîâ, ñòóäåíòîâ è àñïèðàíòîâ ãóìàíèòàðíûõ âóçîâ, èçó÷àþùèõ àíãëèéñêóþ ëèòåðàòóðó.

Àííîòàöèÿ: Dean Jocelin has a vision: that God has chosen him to erect a great spire on his cathedral. His mason anxiously advises against it, for the old cathedral was built without foundations. Nevertheless, the spire rises octagon upon octagon, pinnacle by pinnacle, until the stone pillars shriek and the ground beneath it swims. Its shadow falls ever darker on the world below, and on Dean Jocelin in particular. From the author of Lord of the Flies, The Spire is a dark and powerful portrait of one man's will, and the folly that he creates.

Àííîòàöèÿ: William Golding's compelling story about a group of very ordinary small boys marooned on a coral island has become a modern classic. At first it seems as though it is all going to be great fun; but the fun before long becomes furious and life on the island turns into a nightmare of panic and death. As ordinary standards of behaviour collapse, the whole world the boys know collapses with them—the world of cricket and homework and adventure stories—and another world is revealed beneath, primitive and terrible. Lord of the Flies remains as provocative today as when it was first published in 1954, igniting passionate debate with its startling, brutal portrait of human nature. Though critically acclaimed, it was largely ignored upon its initial publication. Yet soon it became a cult favorite among both students and literary critics who compared it to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye in its influence on modern thought and literature. Labeled a parable, an allegory, a myth, a morality tale, a parody, a political treatise, even a vision of the apocalypse, Lord of the Flies has established itself as a true classic.

Àííîòàöèÿ: The short story has become one of the major forms of modern literary expression - in some ways the most modern of them all'. The story of the British short story since the Second World War is one of change and revolution and this powerful and moving collection brilliantly demonstrates the evolution of the form. Containing thirty-four of the most widely regarded postwar British writers, it features tales of love and crime, comedy and the supernatural, the traditional as well as the experimental. This many-storied, many-splendored collection is a brilliant portrait of the generation of writers who have immediately influenced the brightest, sharpest and most intriguing writers who continue to emerge today

Àííîòàöèÿ: William Golding's compelling story about a group of very ordinary small boys marooned on a coral island has become a modern classic. At first it seems as though it is all going to be great fun; but the fun before long becomes furious and life on the island turns into a nightmare of panic and death. As ordinary standards of behaviour collapse, the whole world the boys know collapses with them—the world of cricket and homework and adventure stories—and another world is revealed beneath, primitive and terrible. Lord of the Flies remains as provocative today as when it was first published in 1954, igniting passionate debate with its startling, brutal portrait of human nature. Though critically acclaimed, it was largely ignored upon its initial publication. Yet soon it became a cult favorite among both students and literary critics who compared it to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye in its influence on modern thought and literature. Labeled a parable, an allegory, a myth, a morality tale, a parody, a political treatise, even a vision of the apocalypse, Lord of the Flies has established itself as a true classic.