Alice Walker作品简介

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Alice Walker简介

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The Pulitzer Prize for Fiction is one of the seven American Pulitzer Prizes that are annually awarded for Letters, Drama, and Music. It recognizes distinguished fiction by an American author, preferably dealing with American life, published during the preceding calendar year. 2016/12/8
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The National Book Awards are a set of annual U.S. literary awards. At the final National Book Awards Ceremony every November, the National Book Foundation presents the National Book Awards and two lifetime achievement awards to authors.
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Introduction Writing career Selected Awards and Honors The Color Purple
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Born：February 9, 1944 (age 72) Putnam County, Georgia, U.S.
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1988 — Living by the Word 1989 — The Temple of My Familiar 1991 — Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems 1965-1990 Complete 1991 — Finding the Green Stone 1992 — Possessing the Secret of Joy 1993 — Warrior Marks 1996 — Alice Walker: Banned 1996 — The Same River Twice: Honoring the Difficult 1997 — Anything We Love Can Be Saved: A Writer's Activism 1998 — By the Light of My Father's Smile 2000 — The Way Forward Is with a Broken Heart

AliceWalker作品简介

Meridian is a heartfelt and moving story about one woman's personal revolution as she joins the Civil Rights Movement. Set in the American South in the 1960s it follows Meridian Hill, a courageous young woman who dedicates herself heart and soul to her civil rights work, touching the lives of those around her even as her own health begins to deteriorate. Hers is a lonely battle, but it is one she will not abandon, whatever the costs. This is classic Alice Walker, beautifully written, intense and passionate.
1.在英美传统文化中, 紫色( purple) 如同中国传统文化中的黄色( yellow), 是一种“尊色”, 是帝王之色。神秘的紫色在英美文化中便是皇权、崇高和尊严的象征。沃克将书名定为“紫色”并将之贯穿全文, 象征着对美好生活和未来的追求。
2.主人公茜莉喜欢紫色, 在小说刚开始时, 茜莉渴望能买上一块紫色的布料做衣服,这是主人公渴望平等、独立的隐喻表达。。而在小说的结尾, 获得人格尊严和经济独立的茜莉将自己的屋子涂成鲜艳的紫色和红色是其真正享有自己的自由和权利的象征表达, 展示了茜莉对美好生活的渴望, 也象征着她曾受白人社会和黑人男性双重凌辱的社会地位的改变以及她美好、独立、完整人生的开始。

爱丽丝·沃克小说创作中的“非洲中心主义”

爱丽丝·沃克小说创作中的“非洲中心主义”摘要“非洲中心主义”思想代表着一种“非洲意识”的苏醒，尝试站在非洲人的位置并使用他们的视角看待和解决问题，它的出现是对原有“欧洲中心主义”思想的绝对统治地位的一次有力冲击。

非裔女性作家爱丽丝·沃克致力于描写非裔群体生活的悲欢离合。

其创作与“非洲中心主义”有深刻的联系：“非洲中心主义”是爱丽丝表达政治理念的重要概念，而她的创作也进一步丰富了美国非裔“非洲中心主义”理论话语体系。

学术界对于爱丽丝·沃克的讨论多集中在女性主义角度，但在对沃克作品的梳理过程中，我们可以清晰地看见“非洲中心主义”理论的痕迹。

本文在对爱丽丝·沃克与“非洲中心主义”相遇与接受进行考察的基础上，阐述其作品对“非洲中心主义”的文学表达。

论文包含绪论、正文与结语三个部分。

绪论介绍爱丽丝·沃克的文学创作情况、国内外研究现状以及研究思路。

其次，正文共分为四个章节，第一章关注“非洲中心主义”理论的诞生及特征，梳理其在非洲形成的详细过程以及后期在美国的发展情况，并结合沃克的访谈和文章探究沃克思考下的“非洲中心主义”的内涵。

沃克借“妇女主义”思想呼吁：以黑人在非洲大陆的根为骄傲，不能忘记民族的历史。

她建议艺术家们将优秀的非洲传统文化遗产同各式的艺术结合并将其传承下去，并肯定了具有生命力和惊人创造力的“黑人美”。

第二章分析沃克的“民俗性”与“黑人美”题材实践，分别阐述了民间口述故事、黑人医药与手工艺术的特色民俗价值，点明了黑人女性“生活艺术家”与“民权抗争者”的身份，也歌颂了老一辈黑人善良勤劳的本性。

第三章着重于讲述如何用“非洲中心主义”思想这一良方，救治遭受白人信仰精神毒害的非裔群体。

沃克用源于非洲传统的“泛灵论”改革了基督教思想，并重铸经典以此帮助非裔群体重拾信心。

她通过实践将上帝形象归于自然与母亲，还关注了独具黑人文化特色的伏都教法术。

最后一章从蓝调这一黑人叙事形式角度出发，阐述沃克作品中的布鲁斯特征。

爱丽丝,沃克紫色简介sunny.

◆亚马逊女性主义（Amazon feminism） ◆文化女性主义 ◆生态女性主义（ecofeminism） ◆自由意志女性主义（libertarian feminism）或个人女性主义（individualist feminism） ◆唯物女性主义（material feminism） ◆性别女性主义 ◆法国女性主义 ◆大众女性主义（pop feminism） ◆自由女性主义 ◆马克思女性主义（Marxist feminism） ◆社会女性主义（socialist feminism） ◆激进女性主义（radical feminism） ◆性解放女性主义（sexually liberal feminism或sexpositive feminism） ◆心灵女性主义（spiritual feminism） ◆隔离女性主义 ◆第三世界女性主义 ◆跨性别女性主义（transfeminism）
我们可以找到她早年生活滞留下来的某些痛苦记忆以及她对这一段婚姻的反思。艾丽斯随后辞去工作开始专职写作，在旧金山，她遇上《黑人学者》的编辑罗伯特·亚伦，不久即与之共同生活。
女性主义（女权运动、女权主义）是指一个主要以女性经验为来源与动机的社会理论与政治运动。在对社会关系进行批判之外，许多女性主义的支持者也着重于性别不平等的分析以及推动妇女的权利、利益与议题。女性主义理论的目的在于了解不平等的本质以及着重在性别政治、权力关系与性意识（sexuality）之上。女性主义政治行动则挑战诸如生育权、堕胎权、教育权、家庭暴力、产假（maternity leave）、薪资平等、投票权、性骚扰、性别歧视与性暴力等等的议题。女性主义探究的主题则包括歧视、刻板印象、物化（尤其是关于性的物化）、身体、家务分配、压迫与父权。女性主义的观念基础是认为，现时的社会建立于一个男性被给予了比女性更多特权的父权体系之上。现代女性主义理论主要、但并非完全地出自于西方的中产阶级学术界。不过，女性主义运动是一个跨越阶级与种族界线的草根运动。每个文化下面的女性主义运动各有其独特性，并且会针对该社会的女性来提出议题，比如苏丹的性器割除（genital mutilation，请见女性割礼）或北美的玻璃天花板效应（glass ceiling）。而如强奸、乱伦与母职则是普世性的议题。

Alice Walker

Alice WalkerFrom Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaAlice Malsenior Walker(born February 9, 1944) is an American author and activist. She wrote the critically acclaimed novel The Color Purple(1982) for which she won the National Book Awardand the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.爱丽丝沃克英文摘录自维基百科，自由的百科全书，罗金佑翻译爱丽丝.马尔瑟尼奥.沃克（Alice Malsenior Walker出生于1944年2月9日）是一位美国作家和活动家。

她写的广受好评的小说《紫色》（1982）为她赢得了国家图书奖和普利策小说奖。

Early lifeWalker was born in Putnam County, Georgia,the youngest of eight children, to Willie Lee Walker and Minnie Lou Tallulah Grant. Her father, who was, in her words, "wonderful at math but a terrible farmer," earned only $300 ($4,000 in 2013 dollars) a year from sharecroppingand dairy farming. Her mother supplemented the family income by working as a maid. She worked 11 hours a day for $17 per week to help pay for Alice to attend college.早期的生活沃克是出生在乔治亚州普特南县，是威利.里.沃克和米妮.楼.塔露拉.格兰特的八个孩子中最小的一位。

路易斯·卡罗尔-爱丽丝梦游仙境

路易斯·卡罗尔爱丽丝梦游仙境路易斯·卡罗尔，原名查尔斯·路特维奇·道奇森，是一位英国作家、数学家、逻辑学家、摄影家以及牧师。

他最著名的作品是《爱丽丝梦游仙境》，这部作品讲述了一个名叫爱丽丝的小女孩在梦中进入一个奇妙的世界，与各种奇幻的生物和角色相遇，经历了一系列奇异的冒险。

《爱丽丝梦游仙境》于15年首次出版，迅速成为经典之作，并成为世界文学史上最受欢迎的儿童文学作品之一。

它以其独特的想象力、幽默感和荒诞的情节吸引了无数读者。

卡罗尔运用了大量的幽默和讽刺，以儿童的眼光揭示了成人的荒谬和虚伪。

在《爱丽丝梦游仙境》中，爱丽丝遇到了许多令人难以忘怀的角色，如疯帽子、白兔、柴郡猫、红皇后和双胞胎兄弟等。

这些角色都以其独特的性格和言行为读者留下了深刻的印象。

卡罗尔通过这些角色的塑造，展现了儿童对世界的独特观察和想象力。

除了《爱丽丝梦游仙境》，卡罗尔还创作了《爱丽丝镜中奇遇记》和《爱丽丝的探险》等作品，这些作品同样以爱丽丝为主角，继续探索了梦境中的奇幻世界。

这些作品不仅在儿童文学领域取得了巨大成功，也对后来的文学和艺术产生了深远的影响。

路易斯·卡罗尔的作品以其独特的风格和深刻的思想内涵而闻名。

他通过《爱丽丝梦游仙境》等作品，向读者展示了一个充满奇幻和幽默的世界，同时也引发了对现实世界的思考。

他的作品至今仍然受到广大读者的喜爱，成为儿童文学的经典之作。

《爱丽丝梦游仙境》的故事背景发生在一个夏日的午后，爱丽丝在河边阅读一本无聊的书，突然一只穿着背心的白兔引起了她的注意。

好奇心的驱使下，她跟随白兔跳进了一个兔子洞，从此进入了一个奇幻的世界。

在这个世界里，爱丽丝遇到了各种奇特的生物和角色。

她来到了疯帽子的茶会，与疯帽子、三月兔和睡鼠一起喝茶。

在这个茶会上，爱丽丝被卷入了一场荒诞的对话，她试图理解这些角色的奇怪行为和言语。

接着，爱丽丝遇到了柴郡猫，一只能够消失和出现的神秘猫。

Everyday Use-Alice Walker(《祖母的日常用品》爱丽丝.沃克)原版辅导教学问题

Everyday UseAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yesterday afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: She will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eyeing her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister had held life always in the palm of one hand, that “no” is a word the world never learned to say to her.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------2You’ve no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has “made it” is confronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other’s faces. Sometimes the mother and father weep; the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a dark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into a bright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage, and Dee is embracing me with tears in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she had told me once that she thinks orchids are tacky flowers.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------3In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open fire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyes with asledgehammer and had the meat hung up to chill before nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pancake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Carson has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one foot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------4“How do I look, Mama?” Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she’s there, almost hidden by the door.“Come out into the yard,” I say.Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind to him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She’s a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie’s arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflected in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of, a look of concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house fall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don’t you do a dance around the ashes? I’d wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------5I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity, forcing words, lies, otherfolks’ habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn’t necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious ways she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation from high school; black pumps to match a green suit she’d made from an ol d suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own: and knew what style was.6I never had an education myself. After second grade the school closed down. Don’t ask me why: In 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can’t see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face), and then I’ll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man’s job. I used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in ’49. Cows are soothing and slow and don’t bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin; they don’t make shingle roofs anymore. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the port-holes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutters up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we “choose” to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bri ng her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, “Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends?”--------------------------------------------------------------------------------7She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school. Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her, they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.When she was courting Jimmy T, she didn’t have much time to pay to us but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant, flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes, I will meet—but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. “Come back here,” I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat looking, as if God himself shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. “Uhnnnh” is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your foot on the road. “Uhnnnh.”--------------------------------------------------------------------------------8Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yellows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go “Uhnnnh” again. It is her sister’s hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears.“Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!” she says, coming on in that g liding way the dress makes her move. The short, stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning, and he follows up with “Asalamalakim,1 my mother and sister!” He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there, and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------9“Don’t get up,” says Dee. Since I am stout, it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, andgoes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around in the edge of the yard, she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile, Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie’s hand. Maggie’s hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don’t know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie.“Well,” I say. “Dee.”“No, Mama,” she says. “Not ‘Dee,’ Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!”--------------------------------------------------------------------------------10“What happened to ‘Dee’?” I wanted to know.“She’s dead,” Wangero said. “I couldn’t bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.”“You know as well as me you w as named after your aunt Dicie,” I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her “Big Dee” after Dee was born.“But who was she named after?” asked Wangero.“I guess after Grandma Dee,” I said.“And who was she named after?” asked Wangero.“Her mother,” I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. “That’s about as far back as I can traceit,” I said. Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches.“Well,” said Asalamalakim, “there you are.”“Uhnnnh,” I heard Maggie say.11“There I was not,” I said, “before ‘Dicie’ cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?”He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head.“How do you pronounce this name?” I asked.“You don’t have to call me by it if you don’t want to,” said Wangero.“Why shouldn’t I?” I asked. “If that’s what you want us to call you, we’ll call you.”“I know it might sound awkward at first,” said Wangero.“I’ll get used to it,” I said. “Ream it out again.”Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times, he told me to just call him Hakim-a-barber.I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn’t really think he was, so I didn’t ask.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------12“You must belong to those beef-cattle peoples down the road,” I said. They said “Asalamalakim”when they met you, too, but they didn’t shake hands. Always too busy: feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd, the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, “I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style.” (They didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask, whether Wangero—Dee—had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn’t eat collards, and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greens, and everything else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn’t afford to buy chairs.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------13“Oh, Mama!” she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. “I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints,” she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh, and her hand closed over Grandma Dee’s butter dish. “That’s it!” she said. “I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have.” She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber2 by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it.“This churn top is what I need,” she said. “Didn’t Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?”“Yes,” I said.“Uh huh,” she said happily. “And I want the dasher,3 too.”“Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?” asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me.“Aunt Dee’s first husband whittled the dash,” said Maggie so low you almost couldn’t hear her.“His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.”--------------------------------------------------------------------------------14“Maggie’s brain is like an elephant’s,” Wangero said, laughing. “I can use the churn top as a centerpiece for the alcove table,” she said, sliding a plate over the churn, “and I’ll think of something artistic to do with the dasher.”When she finished wrapping the dasher, the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn’t even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light-yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and started rifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee, and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bits and pieces of Grandpa Jarrell’s paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra’s uniform that he wore in the Civil War.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------15“Mama,” Wangero said sweet as a bird. “Can I have these old quilts?”I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed.“Why don’t you take one or two of the others?” I asked. “These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced befor e she died.”“No,” said Wangero. “I don’t want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.”“That’ll make them last better,” I said.“That’s not the point,” said Wangero. “These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did a ll this stitching by hand. Imagine!” She held the quilts securely in her arms, stroking them.16“Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) mo ved back just enough so that I couldn’t reach the quilts. They already belonged to her.“Imagine!” she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom.“The truth is,” I said, “I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when she marries John T homas.”She gasped like a bee had stung her.“Maggie can’t appreciate these quilts!” she said. “She’d probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.”“I reckon she would,” I said. “God knows I been saving ’em for long enough with nobody using ’em. I hope she will!” I didn’t want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me they were old-fashioned, out of style.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------17“But they’re priceless!” she was saying now, furiously; for she has a temper. “Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they’d be in rags. Less than that!”“She can always make some more,” I said. “Maggie knows how to quilt.”D ee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. “You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, these quilts!”“Well,” I said, stumped. “What would you do with them?”“Hang them,” she said. As if that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other.“She can have them, Mama,” she said, like somebody used to never winning anything or having anything reserved for her. “I can ’member Grandma Dee without the quilts.”--------------------------------------------------------------------------------18I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff, and it gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee who taught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear, but she wasn’t mad at her. This was Maggie’s portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that, something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I’m in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never had done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero’s hands, and dumped them into Maggie’s lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open.“Take one or two of the others,” I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------19“You just don’t understand,” she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car.“What don’t I understand?” I wanted to know.“Your heritage,” she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, “You ought to try to make something of yourself, too, Maggie. It’s really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live, you’d never know it.”She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and her chin.Maggie smiled, maybe at the sunglasses. But a real smile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle, I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Making MeaningsEveryday UseReading Checka. According to Mama, how is Dee different from her and from Maggie?b. How would Maggie and Dee use the quilts differently?c. When she was a child, something terrible happened to Maggie. What was it?d. How did the mother choose to resolve the conflict over the quilts?e. Find the passage in the text that explains the title .First Thoughts1. Which character did you side with in the conflict over the quilts, and why?Shaping Interpretations2. What do you think is the source of the conflict in this story? Consider:3. Dee is re ferred to as the child who has “made it.” What do you think that means, and what signs tell you that she has “made it”?4. Use a diagram like the one on the right to compare and contrast Dee and Maggie. What is themost significant thing they have in common? What is their most compelling difference?5. Near the end of the story, Dee accuses Mama of not understanding their African American heritage. Do you agree or disagree with Dee, and why?6. Has any character changed by the end of the story? Go back to the text and find details to support your answer.7. Why do you think Alice Walker dedicated her story “For Your Grandmama”?Extending the Text8. What do you think each of these three women will be doing ten years after the story ends?9. This story takes place in a very particular setting and a very particular culture. Talk about whether or not the problems faced by this family could be experienced by any family, anywhere.Challenging the Text10. Do you think Alice Walker chose the right narrator for her story? How would the story differ if Dee or Maggie were telling it, instead of Mama? (What would we know that we don’t know now?)来源网址：/books/Elements_of_Lit_Cours e4/Collection%201/Everyday%20Use%20p4.htm。

Alice-Walker作品简介只是分享

Feminist , feminism
《紫色》1983年一举拿下代表美国文学最高荣誉的三大奖：普利策奖(Pulitzer Prize)、美国国家图书奖(The National Book Awards)、全国书评家协会奖 (NBCC Award)。
@@中国日报网站消息：美国图书馆协会(ALA)日前公布研究报告，黑人女作家艾丽丝·沃克的小说《紫色》竟然与《哈利·波特》、《魔戒》、《傲慢与偏见》和莎士比亚戏剧一起，成为被重读次数最多的文学作品
3.此外,“紫色”除了象征生命的尊严和人类的希望外, 紫色还是女同性恋主义的标志。书中对茜莉和莎格·艾微利( Shug Avery) 的同性恋描写与严格意义上的同性恋性关系是有区分的, 激进女权主义者们声称, 女同性恋者实际上是自发的、“下意识”的女权主义者,
---因此, 沃克大胆借用“紫色”为书名,“把跪着的女性拉起来, 把她们提到了王权的高度”, 让黑人妇女也享有帝王般的尊严和社会地位。
Meridian is a heartfelt and moving story about one woman's personal revolution as she joins the Civil Rights Movement. Set in the American South in the 1960s it follows Meridian Hill, a courageous young woman who dedicates herself heart and soul to her civil rights work, touching the lives of those around her even as her own health begins to deteriorate. Hers is a lonely battle, but it is one she will not abandon, whatever the costs. This is classic Alice Walker, beautifully written, intense and passionate.

ALice-walker介绍

Biography
1. Alice Walker’s Early Life
Date of Birth: February 9, 1944 Birthplace: Eatonton, Georgia Parents: Willie Lee and Minnie Lou Grant Walker, who were sharecroppers<美>佃农 Marriage: （1967-1976）Mel Leventhal列文斯尔 a Jewish Civil Rights activist/ lawyer Child: Rebecca born in 1969
Alice walker
生平简介主要作品
Main works
biography
作品思想
The themes of
her essays
所获奖项
Awards
课文主旨
作品思想 The themes of her essays
• Many of her novels depict (描述) women in other periods of history writing, such portrayals give a sense of the differences and similarities of women’s condition today and in that other time. Alice walker continues not only to write, but to be active in environmental, feminist causes, and issues of economic justice
Alice walker

Everyday Use for Grandma (Alice Walker)

At the start of the novel, Celie views God as completely separate from her world. She writes to God because she has no other way to express her feelings. Celie's writing to God thrusts her into a rich symbolic life which results in her repudiation of the life she has been assigned and a desire for a more expansive daily existence.Her faith is strong, but it’s dependent on only what other people have revealed to her about God. Later she tells Shug that she sees God as a white man. She has this belief because everyone she knows has said God is white and a male. Later, Shug tells her God has no race or gender. This enables Celie to see God in a different way. She realizes that you cannot place qualities on God because God is a part of the unknown. Her faith is now based on her interpretation of God, not one she learned from someone else. Even though Shug helped her with this realization, Celie only used this knowledge to shape her faith. Shug was a huge influence on Celie’s faith, but Celie was the one that had to choose how she would express it.

Alice Walker

Alice Walker
艾丽丝· 沃克
Biography（个人简介）
Works
(作品简介) Themes（主要思想）
Common
Biography-Childhood

Born on February 9, 1944，in Eatonton, Georgia(佐治亚州). She is the youngest of 8 children, grew up with feeling of loneliness and alienation in poverty. When she was 8,one of her brother shot her eye out with a BB gun causing her lose vision in one eye, and that made her turned to read stories and began to write poems because of unpleasant and shame. In 1961 she graduated from high school as valedictoria （学生代表）and prom queen.

Everyday Use《外婆的日用家当》

Background: Everyday Use is a widely studied and frequently anthologized short story by Walker. It was first published in 1973 as part of Walker short story collection, In Love and Trouble. The story is told in first person by the “Mama”, an African American woman living in the Deep South with one of her two daughters. The story humorously illustrates the difference between Mrs. Johnson and her shy younger daughter Maggie, who still live traditionally in the rural south, and her educated, successful daughter Dee or “Wangero” as she prefers to be called, who scorns her immediate roots in favor of a pretentious “native African” identity.

ALICE WALKER 作者 Everyday Use 课文简介

For your grandma
Made by 少媚、瑞冰
Everyday Use
Biography
CHILDHOOD

born in Eatonton, Georgia , on February, 1944 youngest of eight children, grew up mostly with her 5 oldest brothers 1952-her brother shot her eye out with a BB gun blinding her one eye
Collision
Hope of preserving the black’s culture

✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔
Rape Sexism Racism Violence Isolation Troubled relationships Multi-generational perspectives
Walker’s publishing
1968 Once (poetry)
1970-The Third
Mom Maggie Dee
conflict
different views on the African culture
◈ narrator of the story ◈ a typical black woman
◈ little education, poor, strong ◈ hard-working, independent,
♦ short story, widely studied
♦ first published in 1973 as part of In Love and

爱丽丝沃克黑人女作家的奋斗历程

爱丽丝沃克黑人女作家的奋斗历程爱丽丝沃克是美国一位杰出的黑人女作家，她的小说以探讨种族、性别和身份等社会问题而著称。

在她的奋斗历程中，她经历了许多挑战和困难，但她坚持不懈地追求她的理想，并通过她的作品为黑人女性争取平等和正义。

爱丽丝沃克于1944年出生在美国乔治亚州的一个农民家庭。

在一个充满种族主义和歧视的年代，她从小就意识到了黑人女性所面临的不平等待遇。

然而，她的早期教育经历却对她的眼界产生了重要影响。

她在一个由黑人教师领导的学校就读，这为她提供了一个理解黑人文化和历史的机会。

这种教育经验启发了她对黑人女性体验的关注，并成为她后来作品的主题。

在大学期间，爱丽丝沃克开始接触到女权主义和黑人民权运动。

她参加了一些抗议活动，并积极地支持黑人权益。

这段经历加强了她将个人经历与社会问题相结合的意识，这成为了她后来的写作风格的重要特点。

她通过她的作品传达了黑人女性的声音，并呼吁社会对种族和性别不平等的正视。

1970年，爱丽丝沃克出版了她的第一部小说《紫色》。

这本小说以一个黑人女性的成长故事为背景，讲述了她在困境中寻找自我认同和自由的旅程。

小说大获成功，并赢得了许多文学奖项，包括普利策奖。

它不仅使爱丽丝沃克成为瞩目的作家，也引起了公众对黑人女性经历的关注。

在《紫色》之后，爱丽丝沃克继续发表了一系列备受赞誉的小说和散文集。

她的作品揭示了黑人女性在社会、家庭和内心生活中所面临的各种压力和挑战。

她以敏锐的洞察力和独特的写作风格，描绘出黑人女性的坚强、勇气和抗争精神。

她的作品不仅具有文学价值，更为黑人女性争取平等和自由作出了重要贡献。

然而，爱丽丝沃克并不仅仅是一名作家。

她还是一位活动家和社会改革者。

她积极参与反种族主义和反贫困运动，并致力于提高黑人女性的地位和权益。

她通过演讲、文章和社会行动，呼吁社会对种族和性别不平等的关注，并推动社会变革的进程。

尽管她在奋斗历程中遇到了许多挑战和批评，但爱丽丝沃克始终坚信通过写作和社会行动，她能够为黑人女性增加更多的机会和权益。

翻译TheColorPurplebyAliceWalker

翻译TheColorPurplebyAliceWalker 《紫色》是爱丽丝·沃克创作的小说作品，原名为"The Color Purple"。

该作于1982年出版并获得了普利策奖等多个文学奖项。

小说以主人公塞利·盖乔的视角展开，讲述了一个黑人女性在种族歧视和性别压迫下的成长与坚韧奋斗。

通过这个故事，沃克揭示了美国南方农村黑人社区的社会问题、家庭问题以及黑人妇女在其中所面临的双重压迫。

小说以塞利的信件和日记形式展现，读者通过她的叙述认识到她从被虐待、被剥夺自由的青少年，逐渐成长为一个自信、独立、拥有自己的声音和生活的女性。

故事主要发生在20世纪初期，讲述了塞利从小就生活在农村的贫困黑人社区，她在14岁时被父亲强迫与“先生”结婚，婚后的生活充满暴力和苦难。

塞利受到了父亲和丈夫的虐待，但她并未失去自我，她借助写信和日记的方式，不仅表达了内心的痛苦和希望，还与她的良师索菲娅建立了深厚的友谊。

正是在这种友谊的支持下，塞利逐渐找回自己的勇气和力量，勇敢地反抗父亲和丈夫的压迫，并最终摆脱了他们的控制。

另一方面，小说也描述了塞利与前夫好友的曼·莱·格罗的感情发展。

曼·莱·格罗是一位黑人活动家，他通过阳光般的笑容、善良的言行以及对黑人社区的改善工作，渐渐赢得了塞利的心。

两人的感情逐渐升温，塞利迈出了解脱的一步。

小说《紫色》通过描写塞利的成长经历和她所遭受的剥夺，探讨了种族、阶级、性别、家庭关系等问题，并呼吁人们关注和改变这些社会问题。

故事中的塞利象征着黑人妇女的独立和坚韧，她们经历了一系列斗争和磨难，最终实现了内心的自由和解放。

沃克通过细腻的笔触和独特的叙述方式，引导读者思考种族和性别之间的交叉问题，以及社会的不公和压迫对个体生命的摧残。

小说并没有给出简单的答案和解决方案，而是通过对塞利等人的塑造和生活经历的描绘，希望唤醒读者对这些问题的思考和关注。

艾丽斯·沃克《紫色》的象征隐喻解析

艾丽斯·沃克《紫色》的象征隐喻解析关键词：黑人文化女性主义象征隐喻摘要：美国黑人文学的女性代表作家艾丽斯·沃克以黑人民族的独特文化内涵来彰显“黑人美”。

在长篇小说《紫色》中，她成功运用了黑人文学最突出的艺术手法——象征隐喻。

基于盖茨的喻指理论，对《紫色》中的象征隐喻艺术手法进行了解析。

非洲裔美国黑人女作家艾丽斯·沃克(Alice Walker)出生于美国黑人聚居的佐治亚州的贫困乡村，自幼耳闻目睹南方黑人的悲惨生活，尤其是黑人妇女，她们遭受双重压迫——一方面受到白人社会的歧视，另一方面又忍受着黑人男性的欺压，因为黑人社会也沿袭了白人社会对待男性和女性的双重标准。

正如胡克斯所说，“黑人妇女不仅在白人统治者手下受折磨，而且也在黑人男人手下受折磨。

”在大学时代，沃克就积极参加民权运动，并立志将争取种族平等和黑人妇女解放作为自己的终身事业。

因此，沃克的小说创作始终植根于美国黑人的文化传统，美国黑人，尤其是美国黑人妇女的历史、命运和前途是其小说创作的主题，她关注的焦点主要集中在处于社会最底层的黑人妇女的命运和她们的精神世界。

与同时代的美国黑人女作家托尼·莫里森一道，沃克把黑人女性推上了美国文学，特别是美国黑人文学的殿堂，让世人听到了她们的呻吟和呐喊。

美国黑人评论家玛丽·海伦·华盛顿称沃克为黑人妇女的“辩护士”，说她是“为了捍卫一个事业或一种立场而发言写作的”。

沃克的代表作长篇小说《紫色》为读者建构了一个在异质文化侵蚀下怪诞、变形的黑人世界，成功地塑造了主人公茜莉在白人社会和黑人男性双重压迫下寻找自我、重塑自我，从而获得新生的艰难历程。

《紫色》连获美国三项大奖——普利策奖、美国图书奖、全国图书评委协会奖，细细品味，我们不难发现：小说采用书信体形式的叙述方式，运用娴熟的黑人民间口语和象征隐喻的手法刻画人物并探寻人物的心灵，人物形象鲜活生动，栩栩如生；作者不是仅仅停留在描写黑人妇女的悲惨生活上，而是深入探讨黑人女性遭受不公平待遇的社会历史根源，并寻求解决途径——妇女之间的互爱互助是她们获得幸福和自的最佳手段。

alice walker简介

简介
艾丽丝·沃克(Alice Walker,1944—)是20世纪70年代以来(欧美国家第二次妇女
运动之后)美国文坛最著名的黑人女作家之一。

她在她的小说里生动的反映了黑人女性的苦难，歌颂了她们与逆境搏斗的精神和奋发自立的坚强性格。

为了区别于其它女权主义者，她提出了“妇女主义”(Womanism)这一独特的思想概念。

如果说妇女主义是理论，她的长篇小说《紫色》(The Color Purple)便是对这一理论的具体实践。

《紫色》自1982年发表以来，便轰动美国文坛，接连获得了美国文学作品的三个大奖：普利策奖、全国图书奖和全国书评家奖。

艾丽丝·沃克成为获得普立策奖和全国图书奖的第一个黑人女作家。

影响
艾丽丝·沃克1983年曾随美国女作家代表团来华。

除《紫色》及一两个短篇外，艾丽丝的其他作品在中国译介不多。

她的最新小说是《在我父亲微笑的光芒下》（1998），该小说采用了多重的叙事角度，讲述了性与精神、父亲与女儿的关系，尤其剖析了几代人的不同观念。

评论界的反应不是很热烈，可见艾丽丝·沃克还没有成功地超越自我。

但不管是她自己还是别的黑人女作家，超越《紫色》本来就是一件不太容易的事，所以《紫色》在今天大家还在读。

可见《紫色》还在红着。

爱丽丝·沃克简介

爱丽丝·沃克简介
职业：小说家
国籍：美国人
为什么出名：爱丽丝·沃克是美国最畅销的诗人和小说家。

她最著名的作品是广受好评的小说《紫色》，获得了国家图书奖和普利策小说奖。

后来这部电影被改编成了由史蒂芬·斯皮尔伯格执导的奥斯卡提名影片，由伍皮·戈德伯格主演。

沃克是一位杰出的黑人女权主义者，她创造了“女权主义者”一词来代表她的女权主义。

她的小说《拥有欢乐的秘密》集中描写了她反对的女性外阴残割。

出生于1944年2月9日出生地：乔治亚州普特南县，美国年龄：75岁
一代：无声一代中国生肖：猴星星座：水瓶座
婚后生活1967-03-17小说家艾丽斯·沃克（23岁）与民权律师梅尔文·列文塔尔在纽约市举行的艾丽斯·沃克生平大事1983-04-18普利策奖授予艾丽斯·沃克的小说《紫色》1985年12月16日电影《紫色》根据爱丽斯·沃克的小说改编，斯蒂芬·斯皮尔伯格导演，沃比·戈德伯格和丹尼·格洛弗主演，在纽约首映。

在Twitter上的Facebook分享著名小说家阿加莎·克里斯蒂伊迪丝·沃顿简·奥斯汀何塞·里扎尔诺曼·梅勒斯蒂芬·克兰。