芒果街上的小屋英文版
The_house_on_Mango_Street芒果街上的小屋ppt课件
Abstract
It is a book about a girl, Esperanza, whose whole family immigrate to America from Mexico. They live in Mango Street, an area of immigrants. Esperanza has dreams, hopes, and plans. These are symbolized by a house. Esperanza regards the house on Mango Street as simply a house she lives in with her family. When she was younger and constantly on the move from apartment to apartment, her parents promised her a real home with a green yard, real stairs, and running water with pipes that worked.
The house on Mango
Street
by 王娟娟
Contents
• About the writer • Abstract • Beautiful sentences • My feeling
About the writer
Sandra Cisneros (born December 20, 1954) is an American writer best known for her acclaimed first novel The House on Mango Street and her subsequent short story collection Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories . Her work experiments with literary forms and investigates emerging subject positions, which Cisneros herself attributes to growing up in a context of cultural hybridity and economic inequality that endowed her with unique stories to tell.
芒果街的小屋每章总结
芒果街的小屋每章总结第一章:芒果街上的小屋The House on Mango Street第二章:头发Hairs第三章:男孩和女孩Boys & Girls第四章:我的名字My Name第五章:猫皇后凯茜Cathy Queen of Cats第六章:我们的好日子Our Good Day第七章:笑声Laughter第八章: Gil's Furmiture Bought & Sold第九章么么奥提兹Meme Ortiz第十章:路易、他的表姐和表兄Louie, His Cousin & His Other Cousin第十一章:玛琳Marin第十二章:那些人不明白Those Who Don't第十三章有一个老女人她有很多孩子,不知道怎么办There Was an Old Woman She Had So Many Children She Didn't Kn 第十四章:瞧见老鼠的阿莉西娅Alicia Who Sees Mice第十五章:大流士和云Darius & the Clouds第十六章:还有... And Some More第十七章小脚之家The Family of Lttle Feet第十八章:米饭三明治A Rice Sandwich第十九章:塌跟的旧鞋Chanclas第二十章:髋骨Hips第二十一章第一份工作The First Job第二十二章:黑暗里醒来的疲惫的爸爸Papa Who Wakes Up Tired in the Dark第二十三章:生辰不吉Borm Bad第二十四章:伊伦泥塔、牌、手掌和水Elenita, Cards, Palm, Water第二十五章:没有姓的杰拉尔多Geraldo No Last Name第二十六章:埃德娜的鸳鸶Edna's Ruthie第二十七章:田纳西的埃尔The Earl of Tennessee第二十八章:塞尔Sire第二十九章四棵细瘦的树Four Skinny Trees第三十章:别说英语No Speak English第三十-章在星期二喝可可和木瓜汁的拉菲娜Rafaela Who Drinks Coconut & Papaya Juice on Tuesdays第三十二章:萨莉Sally第三十三章密涅瓦写诗Minerva Writes Poems第三十四章:阁楼上的流浪者Bums in the Attic第三十五章:美丽的和残酷的Beautiful & Cruel第三十六章一一个聪明人A Smart Cookie第三十七章:萨莉说了什么What Sally Said第三十八章猴子花园The Monkey Garden第三十九章红色小丑Red Clowns第四十章亚麻地毡上的玫瑰Linoleum Roses第四十-章三姐妹The Three Sisters第四十二章阿莉西娅和我在埃德娜的台阶上交谈Alicia & I Talking on Edna's Steps第四十三章:一所我自己的房子A House of My Own第四十四章:芒果有时说再见Mango Says Goodbye Sometimes。
芒果街上的小屋
Sanda Cigneros （桑德拉· 希斯内罗丝）
I knew then I had to have a house. A real house. One I could point to. But this isn't it. The house on Mango Street isn't it. For the time being, Mama says. Temporary, says Papa. But I know how those things go.
Beautiful Sentences
I have gone away to come back.For the ones I left behind.For the ones who cannot out. 他们不会知道，我离开是为了回来，为了那些我 留在身后的人，为了那些无法出去的人。 Not a flat.Not an apartment in back.Not a man's house.Not a daddy's.A house all my own.With my porch and my pillow,my pretty purple petunias.My books and my stories.My two shoes waiting beside the bed.Nobody to shake a stick at .Nobody's garbage to pick up after.Only a house quiet as snow,a space for myself to go,clean as paper before the poem. 不是小公寓。也不是阴面的大公寓。也不是哪一 个男人的房子。也不是爸爸的。是完完全全我 自己的。那里有我的前廊我的枕头，我漂亮的 紫色矮牵牛。我的书和我的故事。我的两只等 在床边的鞋。不用和谁去作对。没有别人扔下 的垃圾要拾起。只是一所寂静如雪的房子，一 个自己归去的空间，洁净如同诗笔未落的纸。
英语阅读赏析翻译：芒果街上的小屋
英语阅读赏析翻译：芒果街上的小屋Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa’s hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery一slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair tike fur.我们家里每个人的头发都不一样。
爸爸的头发像扫把，根根直立往上插。
而我，我的头发挺懒惰。
它从来不听发夹和发带的话。
卡洛斯的头发又直又厚。
他不用梳头。
蕾妮的头发滑滑的—会从你手里溜走。
还有奇奇，他最小，茸茸的头发像毛皮。
But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes,like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pincurls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bedstill warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.只有妈妈的头发，妈妈的头发，好像一朵朵小小的玫瑰花结，一枚枚小小的糖果圈儿，全都那么卷曲，那么漂亮，因为她成天给它们上发卷。
thehouseonmangostreet（芒果街上的小屋）中英
thehouseonmangostreet（芒果街上的小屋）中英The House on Mango StreetWe didn’t always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler it was Paulina, and before that I can’t remember, But what I remember most is moving a lot. Each time it seems there’d be one more of us. By the time we got to Mango Street we were six—Mama, Papa, Carlos, Kiki, my sister Nenny and me.The house on Mango Street is ours, and we don't have to pay rent to anybody, or share the yard with the people downstairs, or be careful not to make too much noise, and there isn't a landlord banging on the ceiling with a broom. But even so, it's not the house we'd thought we'd get.We had to leave the flat on Loomis quick. The water pipes broke and the lanlord wouldn't fix them because the house was too old. We had to leave fast. We were using the washroom next door and carrying water over in empty milk gallons. That's why Mama and Papa looked for a house, and that's why we moved into the house on Mango Street, far away, on the other side of town.They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a real house that would be ours for always so we wouldn't have to move each year. And our house would have running water and pipes that worked. And inside it would have real stairs, not hallway stairs, but stairs inside like the houses on . And we'd have a basement and at least three washrooms so when we took a bath we wouldn't have to tell everybody. Our house would be white with trees around it, a great big yard and grass growing without a fence. This was the house Papa talked about when heheld a lottery ticket and this was the house Mama dreamed up in the stories she told us before we went to bed.But the house on Mango Street is not the way they told it at all. It's small and red with tight steps in front and windows so small you'd think they were holding their breath. Bricks are crumbling in places, and the front door is so swollen you have to push hard to get in. There is no front yard only four little elms the city planted by the curb. Out back is a small garage for the car we don't own yet and a small yard that looks smaller between the two buildings on either side. There are stairs in our house, but they're ordinary hallway stairs, and the house has only one washroom. Everybody has to share a bedroom—Mama and Papa, Carlos and Kiki, me and Nenny. Once when we were living on Loomis, a nun from my school passed by and saw me playing out front. The laundromat downstairs had been boarded up because it had been robbed two days before and the owner had painted on the wood YES WE'RE OPEN so as not to lose business.Where do you live She asked.There, I said pointing up to the third floor.You live thereThere. I had to look to where she pointed—the third floor, the paint peeling, wooden bars Papa had nailed on the windows so we wouldn't fall out. You live there The way she said it made me feel like nothing. There .I lived there. I nodded.I knew then I had to have a house. A real house. One I could point to. But this isn't it. The house on Mango Street isn't it. For the time being, Mama says. Temporary, says Papa. But I know how those things go.下附译文芒果街上的小屋我们先前不住芒果街。
芒果街上的小屋
• Sandra is the only daughter，isolated， constant migration • Similar story about Esperanza • The pursuit of reality and spiritual home, the pursuit of equally and freedom
A house means
=A place you belong to =A home to come back =A dream stands in front of you =A goal which you'll finally reach =A true self
What we need
The House on Mango Street
-Everyone has the right to have dream
It’s the most sorrowful story concerning migrant issues.
Exotic culture is mighty and aggressive that w hat left for a migrant to do is not attack, all b ut attack. Dialect· · ·
dream compassion
hope
power
They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot out.
Everything begins from the end. 一切开始于结束之后。
The House On The Mango Street 英文原文《芒果街上的小屋》第四五节简析
My NameIn English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters. It means sadness, it means waiting. It is like the number nine. A muddy color. It is the Mexican records my father plays on Sunday mornings when he is shaving, songs like sobbing.Esperanza在英文中寓意希望，但是在西班牙语中并没有这样明丽的寓意，反而是哀愁的、灰蒙蒙的、绵长微弱的，像泥的土色，像一首小调的哀绵。
It was my great-grandmother's name and now it is mine. She was a horse woman too, born like me in the Chinese year of the horse—which is supposed to be bad luck if you're born female—but I think this is a Chinese lie because the Chinese, like the Mexicans, don't like their women strong.My great-grandmother. I would've liked to have known her, a wild horse of a woman, so wild she wouldn't marry. Until my great-grandfather threw a sack over her head and carried her off. Just like that, as if she were a fancy chandelier. That's the way he did it.And the story goes she never forgave him. She looked out the window her whole life, the way so many women sit their sadness on an elbow. I wonder if she made the best with what she got or was she sorry because she couldn't be all the things she wanted to be. Esperanza. I have inherited her name, but I don't want to inherit her place by the window.这个名字来自曾祖母，她是个雄壮有活力的女子，像一匹无法降住的烈马，而曾祖父是用麻袋将她扛进了婚姻当中，她对此终生怨怼，却只能像其他郁郁寡欢的女子一般伫立窗前，以臂支着脸空流泪罢了。
芒果街上的小屋 英文
Chapter 1 HairsEverybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery——slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair like fur.But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pincurls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.Chapter 2 Darius & The CloudsYou can never have too much sky. You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky, and sky can keep you safe when you are sad. Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky. Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful. Still, we take what we can get and make the best of it.Darius, who doesn't like school, who is sometimes stupid and mostly a fool, said something wise today, though most days he says nothing. Darius, who chases girls with firecrackers or a stick that touched a rat and thinks he's tough, today pointed up because the world was full of clouds, the kind like pillows.You all see that cloud, that fat one there? Darius said, See that? Where? That one next to the one that look like popcorn. That one there. See that. That's God, Dariussaid.God? somebody little asked. God, he said, and made it simple.Chapter 3 Four Skinny TreesThey are the only ones who understand me. I am the only one who understands them. Four skinny trees with skinny necks and pointy elbows like mine. Four who do not belong here but are here. Four raggedy excuses planted by the city. From our room we can hear them, but Nenny just sleeps and doesn't appreciate these things.Their strength is secret. They send ferocious roots beneath the ground. They grow up and they grow down and grab the earth between their hairy toes and bite the sky with violent teeth and never quit their anger. This is how they keep. Let one forget his reason for being, they'd all droop like tulips in a glass, each with their arms around the other. Keep, keep, keep, trees say when I sleep. They teach.When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and be.Chapter 4 Cathy Queen of CatsCathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven.You want a friend, she says. Okay, I'll be your friend. But only till next Tuesday. That's when we move away. Got to. Then as if she forgot I just moved in, she says the neighborhood is getting bad.Cathy's father will have to fly to France one day and find her great great distant grand cousin on her father's side and inherit the family house. How do I know this is so? She told me so. In the meantime they'll just have to move a little farther north from Mango Street, a little farther away every time people like us keep moving in.Chapter 5 A house of my ownNot a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man's house. Not a daddy's. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody's garbage to pick up after. Only a house quiet as snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.Chapter 7 The House on Mango Street 1We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, and before that I can't remember. But what I remember most is moving a lot. Each time it seemed there'd be one more of us. By the time we got to Mango Street we were six ——Mama, Papa, Carlos, Kiki, my sister Nenny and me. The house on Mango Street is ours, and we don't have to pay rent to anybody, or share the yard with the people down stairs, or be careful not to make too much noise, and there isn't a landlord banging on the ceiling with a broom. But even so, it's not the house we'd thought we'd get. We had to leave the flat on Loomis quick. The water pipes broke and the landlord wouldn't fix them because the house was too old. We had to leave fast. We were using the washroom next door and carrying water over in empty milk gallons. That's why Mama and Papa looked for ahouse, and that's why we moved into the house on Mango Street, far away, on the other side of town.Chapter 8 The House on Mango Street 2They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a real that would be ours for always so we wouldn't have to move each year. And our house would have running water and pipes that worked. And inside it would have real stairs, not hallway stairs, but stairs inside like the house on T.V.And we'd have a basement and at least three washrooms so when we took a bath we wouldn't have to tell everybody. Our house would be white with trees around it, a great big yard and grass growing without a fence. This was the house Papa talked about when he held a lottery ticket and this was the house mama dreamed up in the stories she told us before we went to bed.Chapter 9 The House on Mango Street 3But the house on Mango Street is not the way they told it at all. It's small and red with tight steps in front and windows so small you'd think they were holding their breath. Bricks are crumbling in places, and the front door is so swollen you have to push hard to get in. There is no front yard, only four little elms the city planted by the curb. Our back is a small garage for the car we don't own yet and a small yard that looks smaller between the two buildings on either side. There are stairs in our house, but they're ordinary hallway stairs, and the house has only one washroom. Everybody has to share a bedroom—Mama and Papa, Carlos and Kiki, me and Nenny.Chapter 10 The House on Mango Street 4Once when we were living on Loomis, a nun from my school passed by and saw me playing out front. The Laundromat downstairs had been boarded up because it had been robbed two days before and the owner had painted on the wood YES WE'RE OPEN so as not lose business.Where do you live? She asked. There, I said pointing up to the third floor. You live there?There. I had to look to where she pointed –——the third floor, the paint peeling, wooden bars Papa had nailed on the windows so we wouldn't fall out. You live there? The way she said it made me feel like nothing. There. I lived there. I nodded.I knew then I had to have to house. A real house. One I could point to .but this isn't it. The house on Mango Street isn't it. For the time being, Mama says. Temporary, says Papa. But I know how those things go.Chapter 11 The boys and girls 1The boys and the girls live in separate world. The boys in their universe and we in ours. My brothers for example. They've got plenty to say to me and Nenny inside the house. But outside they can't be seen talking to girls. Carlos and Kiki are each other's best friend…not ours.Nenny is too young to be my friend. She's just my sister and that was not my fault. You don't pick your sisters, you just get them and sometimes they come like Nenny.Chapter 12 The boys and girls 2She can't play with those Vargas kids or she'll turn our just like them. And since she comes right after me, she is my responsibility.Someday I will have a best friend all my own. One I can tell my secrets to. One who will understand my jokes without my having to explain them. Until then I am a red balloon, a balloon tied to an anchor.Chapter 13 My name 1In English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters. It means sadness, it means waiting. It is like the number nine. A muddy color. It is the Mexican records my father plays on Sunday mornings when he is shaving, songs like sobbing.It was my great-grandmother's name and now it is mine. She was a horse woman too, born like me in the Chinese year of horse—which is supposed to be bad luck if you're born female—but I think this is a Chinese lie because the Chinese, like the Mexicans, don't like their women strong.My great-grandmother. I would've liked to have known her, a wild horse of a woman, so wild she wouldn't marry. Until my great-grandfather threw a sack over her head and carried her off. Just that, as if she were a fancy chandelier. That's the way he did it.Chapter 14 My name 2And the story goes she never forgave him. She looked out the window her whole life, the way so many women sit their sadness on an elbow. I wonder if she made the best with what she got or was she dory because she couldn`t be all the things she wanted to be. Esperanza. I have inherited her name, but I don't want to inherit her place by the window.At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like silver, not quite as thick as sister`s name—Magdalena——which is uglier than mine. Magdalena who at least can come home and become Nenny. But I am always Esperanza.I would like to baptize myself under a new name, a name more like the real me, the one nobody see. Esperanza as Lasiandra or Maritza or Zeze the X.Yes. something like Zeze the X will do.Chapter 15 Cathy Queen of Cats 1She says, I am the great great grand cousin of the queen of France. She lives upstairs, over there, next door to Joe the baby-grabber. Keep away from him, she says. He is full of danger. Benny and Blanca own the corner store. They're okay except don't lean on the candy counter. Two girls raggedy as rats live across the street. You don't want to know them. Edna is the lady who owns the building next to you. She used to own a building big as a whale, but her brother sold it. Their mother said no, no, don't ever sell it.I won't. And then she closed her eyes and he sold it. Alicia is stuck-up ever since she went to college. She used to like me but now she doesn't.Cathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven.Chapter 16 Cathy Queen of Cats 2You want a friend, she says. Okay, I'll be your friend. But only till next Tuesday. That's when we move away. Got to. Then as if she forgot I just moved in, she says the neighborhood is getting bad.Cathy's father will have to fly to France one day and find her great great distant grand cousin on her father's side and inherit the family house. How do I know this is so? She told me so. In the meantime they'll just have to move a little farther north from Mango Street, a little farther away every time people like us keep moving in.Chapter 17 Our good days 1If you give me five dollars I will be your friend forever. That's what the little one tells me.Five dollars is cheap since I don't have any friends except Cathy who is only my friend till Tuesday.Five dollars, five dollars.She is trying to get some body to chip in so they can buy a bicycle form this kid named Tito. They already have ten dollars and all they need is five more.Don't talk to them, says Cathy. Can't you see they smell like a broom.But I like them. Their clothes are crooked and old. They are wearing shiny Sunday shoes without socks. It makes their bald ankles all red, but I like them. Especially the big one who laughs with all her teeth. I like her even though she lets the little one do all the talking.Five dollars, the little one says, only five.Chapter 18 Our good days 2Cathy is tugging my arm and I know whatever I do next will make her mad forever.Wait a minute, I say, and run inside to get the five dollars I have three dollars saved and I take two of Nenny's. She's not home, but I'm sure she'll be glad when she finds out we own a bike. When I get back, Cathy is gone like I knew she would be , but I don't care. I have two new friends and a bike too.My name is Lucy, the big one says. This here is Rachel my sister.I'm her sister, says Rachel. Who are you?And I wish my name was Cassandra or Alexis or Maritza—anything but Esperanza —but when I tell them my name they don't laugh.Chapter 19 Our good days 3We come from Texas, Lucy says and grins. Her was born here, but me I'm Texas.You mean she, I says.No, I'm from Texas, and doesn't get it.This bike is three ways ours, says Rachel who is thinking ahead already. Mine today,Lucy's tomorrow and yours day after.But everybody wants to ride it today because the bike is new, so we decide to take turns after tomorrow. Today is belongs to all of us.Chapter 20 Our good days 4But everybody wants to ride it today because the bike is new, so we decide to take turns after tomorrow. Today it belongs to all of us.I don't tell them about Nenny just yet. It's too complicated. Especially since Rachel almost put out Lucy's eye about who was going to get to ride it first. But finally we agree to ride it together. Why not?Because Lucy has long legs she pedals. I sit on the back seat and Rachel is skinny enough to get up on the handlebars which makes the bike all wobble as if the wheels are spaghetti, but after a bit you get used to it.Chapter 21 Our good days 5We ride fast and faster. Past my house, sad and red and crumbly in places, past Mr. Benny's grocery on the corner, and down the avenue which is dangerous. Laundoromat, junk store, drugstore, windows and cars and more cars , and around the block back to Mango.People on the bus wave. A very fat lady crossing the street says. You sure got quite a load there.Rachel shouts. You got quite a load there too. She is very sassy.Down, down Mango Street we go. Rachel, Lucy, me. Our new bicycle. Laughing the crooked ride back.Chapter 22 LaughterNenny and I don't look like sisters…not right away. Not the way you can tell with Rachel and Lucy who have the same fat popsicle lips everybody else in their family. But me and Nenny, we are more alike than you would know. Our laughter for example. Not the shy ice cream bells' giggle of Rachel and Lucy's' family, but all of a sudden and surprise like a pile of dishes breaking. And other things I can't explain.One day we were passing a house that looked, in my mind, like house I had seen in Mexico. I don't know why. There was nothing about the house that looked exactly like the house I remembered. I'm not even sure why I thought it, but it seemed to feel right.Look at the house, I said, it looks like Mexico.Rachel and Lucy look at me like I'm crazy, but before they can let out a laugh, Nenny says: Yes, that's Mexico all right. That's what I was thinking exactly.Chapter 24 Meme OrtizAround the back is a yard, mostly dirt,and a greasy bunch of boards that used to be a garage. but what you families of squirrels in the higher branches. All around, the nighborhood of roofs, black-tarred and A-framed, and in their gutters, the balls that never came back down to earth. Down at the base of the tree, the dog with two names barks into the empty air, and there at the end of the block, looking smaller still, ourhouse with its feet tucked under like a cat.This is the tree we chose for the First Annual Tarzan Jumping Contest. Meme won. And borke both arms.Chapter 25 Louie,His Cousin&His Other CousinLouie's girl cousin is older than us. She lives with Louie's family because her own family is in Puerto Rico. Her name is Marin or Maris or something like that, and she wears dark nylons all the time and lots of makeup she gets free from selling Avon. She can't come out _gotta baby-sit with Louie's sisters- but she stands in the doorway a lot, all the time singing, clicking her fingers, the same song:Apples, peaches, pumpkin pah-ayYou're in love and so am ah-ayLouie's has another cousin. We only saw him once, but it was important. We were playing volleyball in the alley when he drove up in this great big yellow Cadillac whitewalls and a yellow scarf tied around the mirror. Louie's cousin has his arm out the window. He honked a couple of times and a lot of faces looked out from Louie's back window and then a lot of people came out—Louie, Marin and all the little sisters.Chapter 26 MarinWe never see Marin until her aunt comes home from work, and even then she can only stay out in front. She is there every night with the radio. When the light in her aunt's room goes out, Marin lights a cigarette and it doesn't matter if it's cold out or if the radiodoesn't work or if we've got nothing to say to each other. What matters, Marin says, is for the boys to see us and for us to see them. And since Marin's skirts are shorter and since her eyes are pretty, and since Marin is already older than us in many ways, the boys who do pass by say stupid things like I am in love with those two green apples you call eyes, give them to me why don't you. And Marin just looks at them without even blinking and is no afraid.Marin, under the streetlight, dancing by herself, is singing the same song somewhere.I know. Is waiting for a car to stop, a star to fall, someone to change her life.Chapter 27 There was an old woman she had so manyThe kids bend trees and bounce between cars and dangle upside down from knees and almost break like fancy museum vases you can't replace. They think it's funny. They are without respect for all things living, including themselves.But after a wile you get tired of being worried about kids who aren't even yours. One day they are playing chicken on Mr. Benny's roof . Mr. Benny says, Hey ain't you kids know better than to be swinging up there? Come down, you come down right now, and then they just spit.Chapter 28 Alicia who sees miceAlicia, whose mama died, is sorry there is no one older to rise and make the lunchbox tortillas. Alicia, who inherited her mama's rolling pin and sleepiness, is young and smart and studies for the first time at the university. Two trains and a bus, becauseshe doesn't want to spend her whole life in factory or behind a rolling pin. Is a good girl, my friend, studies all night and sees the mice, the ones her father says do not exist. Is afraid of nothing except four-legged fur. And fathers.Chapter 29 And some more……The Eskimos got thirty different names for snow, I say. I read it in a book.I got a cousin, Rachel says. She got three different names.There ain't thirty different kinds of snow, Lucy says. There are two kinds. The clean kind and the dirty kind, clean and dirty. Only two.There are a million zillion kinds, says Nenny. No two exactly alike. Only how do you remember which one is which?She got three last names and, let me see, two first names. One in English and one in Spanish…And clouds got at least ten different names. I say.Names for clouds? Nenny asks. Names just like you and me?Chapter 30 The Family of Little FeetThere was a family.All were little.Their arms were little,and their hands were little,and their height was not tall,and their feet very small.The grandpa slept on the living room couch and snored through his teeth.His feet were fat and doughy like thick tamales,and these he powdered and stuffed into white socks and brown leather shoes.The grandma's feet were lovely as pink pearls and dressed in velvety high heels that made her walk with a wobble,but she wore them anyway because they were pretty.Chapter 31 An d some more……The special kids, the ones who wear keys around their necks, get to eat in the canteen. The canteen! Even the name sounds important. And these kids at lunch time go there because their mothers aren't home or home is too far away to get to.My home isn't far but it's not close either, and somehow I got it in my head one day to ask my mother to make me a sandwich and write a note to the principal so I could eat in the canteen too.Oh no, she says pointing the butter knife at me as if I'm starting trouble, no sir. Next thing you know everybody will be wanting a bag lunch—I'll be up all night cutting bread into little triangles, this one with mayonnaise, this one with mustard, no pickles on mine, but mustard on one side please. You kids just like to invent more work for me.'Chapter 32 ChanclasIt`s me——Mama,Mama said.I open up and she`s there with bags and big boxes,the new clothes and ,yes,she`s got the socks and a new slip with a little rose on it and a pink-and-white striped dress.What about the shoes? I forgot.Too late now.I`m tired.Whew!Six-thirty already and my little cousin`s baptism is over.All day waiting,the doorlocked,don`t open up for nobody,and I don`t till Mama gets back and buys everything except the shoes.Now Uncle Nacho is coming in his car,and we have to hurry to get to Precious Blood Church quick because that`s where the baptism party is,in the basement rented for today for dancing and tamales and everyone`s kids running all over the place.PS: chanclas,西班牙语，意为“塌跟的旧鞋”Precious Blood Church:圣血教堂Chapter 33 And some more……I like coffee, I like tea.I like the boys and the boys like me.Yes, no, maybe so. Yes, no, maybe so…One day you wake up and they are there. Ready and waiting like a new Buick with the keys in the ignition. Ready to take you where?They're good for holding a baby when you're cooking, Rachel says, turning the jump rope a little quicker. She has no imagination.You need them to dance, says Lucy.If you don't get them you may turn into a man. Nenny says this and she believes it. She is this way because of her age.Chapter 34 The First JobIn my job I had to wear white gloves.I was supposed to match negatives with theirprints,just look at the picture and look for the same one on the negative strip, put it in the envelope, and do the next one.That`s all. I didn`t know where these envelopes were coming from or where they were going.I just did what I was told.It was real easy, and Iguess I wouldn`t have minded it except that you got tired after a while and I didn`t know if I could sit down or not,and then I started sitting down only when the two ladies next to me did. After a while they started to laugh and came up to me and said I could sit when I wanted to ,and I said I knew.Chapter 35 Papa who wakes up tired in the darkYou abuelito（1）is dead, Papa says early one morning in my room. Esta muerto （2）, and then as if he just heard the news himself, crumples like a coat and cries, my brave Papa cries. I have never seen my Papa cry and don't know what to do.I know he will have to go away, that he will take a plane to Mexico, all the uncles and aunts will be there, and they will have a black-and-white photo taken in front of the tomb with flowers shaped like spears in a white vase because this is how they send the dead away in that country.And I think if my own Papa died what would I do. I hold my Papa in my arms. I hold and hold and hold him.Chapter 36 Born BadMost likely I will go to hell and most likely I deserve to be there.My brother says I was born on an evil day and pray for me.Lucy and Rachel pray too.For ourselves and foreach other……because of what we did to Aunt Lupe.Her name was Guadalupe and she was pretty like my mother.Dark.Good to look at.In her Joan Crawford dress and swimmer`s legs.Aunt Lupe of the photographs.But I knew her sick fromthe disease that would not go,her legs bunched under the yellow sheets,the bones gone limp as worms.The yellow pillow,the yellow smell,the bottles and spoonsl.Her head thrown back like a thirsty lady.My aunt,the swimmer.Hard to imagine her legs once strong, the bones hard and parting water, clean sharp strokes, not bent and wrinkled like a baby, not drowning under the sticky yellow light. Second-floor rear apartment. The naked light bulb. The high ceilings. The light bulb always burning.I don't know who decides who deserves to go bad. There was no evil in her birth. No wicked curse. One day I believe she was swimming, and the next day she was sick. It might have been the day that gray photograph was taken. It might have been the day she was holding cousin Totchy and baby Frank. It might have been the moment she pointed to the camera for the kids to look and theywouldn't.Maybe the sky didn't look the day she fell down. Maybe God was busy. It could be true she didn't dive right one day and hurt her spine. Or maybe the story that she fell very hard from a high step stool, like Totchy said, is true.But I think diseases have no eyes. They pick with a dizzy finger anyone, just anyone. Like my aunt who happened to be walking down the street one day in her Joan Crawford dress, in her funny felt hat with the black feather, cousin Totchy in one hand, baby Frankin the other.Sometimes you get used to the sick and sometimes the sickness, if it is there too long, gets to seem normal. This is how it was with her, and maybe this is why we chose her.It was a game, that's all. It was the game we played every afternoon ever since that day one of us invented it. I can't remember who. I think it was me. You had to pick somebody.You had to think of someone everybody knew. Someone you could imitate and everyone else would have to guess who it was. It started out with famous people: Wonder Woman, the Beatles, Marilyn Monroe... But then somebody thought it'd be better if we changed the game a little, if we pretended we were Mr. Benny, or his wife Blanca, or Ruthie, or anybody we knew.I don't know why we picked her. Maybe we were bored that day. Maybe we got tired. We liked my aunt. She listened to our stories. She always asked us to come back. Lucy, me, Rachel. I hated to go there alone. The six blocks to the dark apartment, second-floor rear building where sunlight never came, and what did it matter? My aunt was blind by then. She never saw the dirty dishes in the sink. She couldn't see the ceilings dusty with flies, the ugly maroon walls, the bottles and sticky spoons. I can't forget the smell. Like sticky capsules filled with jelly. My aunt, a little oyster, a little piece of meat on an open shell for us to look at. Hello, hello. As if she had fallen into a well.I took my library books to her house. I read her stories. I liked the book The Water Babies. She liked it too. I never knew how sick she was until that day I tried to show herone of the pictures in the book, a beautiful color picture of the water babies swimming in the sea. I held the book up to her face. I can't see it, she said, I'm blind. And then I was ashamed.She listened to every book, every poem I read her. one day I read her one of my own. I came very close. I whispered it into the pillow:I want to belike the waves on the sea,like the clouds in the wind,but I'm me.One day I'll jumpout of my skin.I'll shake the skylike a hundred violins.That's nice. That's very good, she said in her tired voice. You just remember to keep writing, Esperanza. You must keep writing. It will keep you free, and I said yes, but at that time I didn't know what she meant.The day we played the game, we didn't know she was going to die. We pretended with our heads thrown back, our arms limp and useless, dangling like the dead. We laughed the way she did. We talked the way she talked, the way blind people talk without moving their head. We imitated the way you had to lift her head a little so she could drink water, she sucked it up slow out of a green tin cup. The water was warm and tasted like metal. Lucy laughed. Rachel too. We took turns being her. We screamed in the weak。
The House on Mango Street芒果街上的小屋
在《芒果街上的小屋》一书 中，希斯内罗丝描述的重点 是生活在一个很大程度上仍 是家长制的西班牙后裔社会 当中的女性问题。《芒果街 上的小屋》一书当中出现了 很多非诗非完整故事的短文， 希斯内罗丝称其为“懒散诗 文”。这些短文有时只有二 三个段落，但像诗歌一样有 内在的韵律。
Esperanza The novel's heroine and narrator,an approximately twelve-year-old Chicana(Mexican-American girl).Esperanza is a budding writer who wishes for a home of her own. The name Esperanza means"hope"in Spanish. 小说的女主角兼叙事者，一个大约12 岁的墨西哥裔美国少女。埃斯佩兰萨 是一个崭露头角的作家，一心想要自 己的房子。艾斯普兰莎在西班牙语当 中是“希望”的意思。
埃斯佩兰萨搬入芒果街小屋的同年便与莎莉结为 好友。虽然莎莉与埃斯佩兰萨同岁，但是她在性 方面更大胆，在艾斯普兰莎眼里她魅力十足。其 实对于埃斯佩兰萨来说，莎莉可不是什么好朋友， 因为她重色轻友。莎莉的父亲是个粗俗的家伙。 莎莉初中还没毕业就辍学与一名男子结婚了，但 他不让莎莉与她的朋友见面，也不让她离开家。 埃斯佩兰萨认为应该给莎莉关切与保护。
Plot Oves significantly dring the year,both sexually and emotionally. The novel charts her life as she makes friends,grows hips, developes her first crush, endures sexual assault ,and begins to write as a way of expressing herself and ad a way to escape the neighborhood. The novel also includes the stories of the neighborhood and showing the many possible paths Esperanza may follow in the future. 只是在这一年，埃斯佩兰萨无论从性意识上还
The House On The Mango Street 英文原文《芒果街上的小屋》第二三节简析
HairsEverybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery—slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair like fur.一家人的头发各异，爸爸的头发像扫把刺向天空，Esperanza的头发软塌塌的，有发夹和皮筋也总是散开，Carlo的头发又多又直，根本不用费心去梳，Nenny的头发顺滑得拿手也抓不住，最小的Kiki，她的头发像羊毛一样绵软But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pin curls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.妈妈的复古卷发是家里最温馨馥郁的，就像面包的香气一样令人感到安心、温暖Boys & GirlsThe boys and the girls live in separate worlds. The boys in their universe and we in ours. My brothers for example. They've got plenty to say to me and Nenny inside the house. But outside they can't be seen talking to girls. Carlos and Kiki are each other's best friend . . . not ours.Nenny is too young to be my friend. She's just my sister and that was not my fault. You don't pick your sisters, you just get them and sometimes they come like Nenny.She can’t play with those Vargas kids or she’ll turn out just like them. And since she comes right after me, she is my responsibility.在Esperanza的理解里，男生和女生在家以外是分属两个不同世界的，家中的亲情与社会俗例有些不同，也不能把亲情和对妹妹的责任当作友谊，而Esperanza渴望真正的友谊Someday I will have a best friend all my own. One I can tell my secrets to. One who will understand my jokes without my having to explain them. Until then I am a red balloon, a balloon tied to an anchor.Esperanza幻想真正的友谊降临时，她会成为最衷心的伙伴，就像一颗火红的气球系在锚上边，不离不弃。
The House On The Mango Street 英文原文《芒果街上的小屋》第十二、十三节赏析
Those Who Don'tThose who don't know any better come into our neighborhood scared. They think we're dangerous. They think we will attack them with shiny knives. They are stupid people who are lost and got here by mistake. But we aren't afraid. We know the guy with the crooked eye is Davey the Baby's brother, and the tall one next to him in the straw brim, that's Rosa's Eddie V, and the big one that looks like a dumb grown man, he's Fat Boy, though he's not fat anymore nor a boy.All brown all around, we are safe. But watch us drive into a neighborhood of another color and our knees go shakity-shake and our car windows get rolled up tight and our eyes look straight. Yeah. That is how it goes and goes.短短的一篇，写开了孩童眼中肤色不同面对的社会境遇，闯入芒果街的陌生人，被移民者群居的“棕色包围圈”吓得胆战心惊，担心自己的生命安全。
但从Esperanza的视角，他们害怕的神态又滑稽又愚蠢，这些他们眼中的怪人不过是寻常住户，有着寻常的背景，寻常的家庭。
《芒果街上的小屋》课件ppt
芒果有时说再见
/Mango Says Goodbye Sometimes/
芒果街上的小屋
/The House on Mango Street/
桑德拉·希斯内罗丝
/Sandra Cisneros/
埃斯佩朗莎 /Esperanza/
我将向你们讲述一个不想归属的女孩的故事。
桑德拉·希斯内罗丝
/Sandra Cisneros/
埃斯佩朗莎 /Esperanza/
我将向你们讲述一个不想归属的女孩的故事。
成长
红色小屋 我们的好日子 大流士和云 塌跟的旧鞋 第一份工 黑暗里醒来的疲惫爸爸 猴子花园
一个女孩的成长 微尘般的快乐和阴影般的困窘 观察与思悟 幻想与疼痛
成长
红色小屋 我们的好日子 大流士和云 塌跟的旧鞋 第一份工 黑暗里醒来的疲惫爸爸 猴子花园
远行
我想成为 海里的浪，风中的云， 但我还只是小小的我。 有一天我要 跳出自己的身躯， 我要摇晃天空， 像一百把小提琴
等待埃斯佩朗莎 ：/源自/等待改变 等待成熟 等待绽放
忧乐未知、阡陌不识 死生无常、人生如寄
等待
埃斯佩朗莎 ：
/9/
等待改变 等待成熟 等待绽放
忧乐未知、阡陌不识 死生无常、人生如寄
等待
玛琳：
等一辆小汽车停下来 等着一颗星星坠落
等着一个人改变她的生活
忧乐未知、阡陌不识
死生无常、人生如寄
等待
玛琳：
等一辆小汽车停下来 等着一颗星星坠落
等着一个人改变她的生活
忧乐未知、阡陌不识
死生无常、人生如寄
等待
瓜达卢佩婶婶：
她生病了 疾病缠绵不去 她等待死亡很长时间了
芒果街上的小屋读后感100字英语
芒果街上的小屋读后感100字英语English Response:"The House on Mango Street" by Sandra Cisneros is a beautifully written and deeply moving novel that explores the complexities of growing up as a young Latina girl in a poor neighborhood. Through the eyes of 12-year-old Esperanza Cordero, we witness the joys and sorrows of adolescence and the struggles of an immigrant community.Cisneros' prose is lyrical and evocative, capturing the beauty and harsh realities of Esperanza's world. The novel is structured as a series of vignettes that explore different aspects of Esperanza's life, from her friendships and family relationships to her hopes and dreams.Throughout the novel, Esperanza grapples with issues of identity, culture, and poverty. She struggles to find her place in a world that often marginalizes and devalues her community. Yet, she also finds strength and resilience inher family and friends."The House on Mango Street" is a powerful and important novel that gives voice to the experiences of young Latinas growing up in the United States. It is a story that will stay with readers long after they finish reading it.中文回答：桑德拉·希斯内罗斯的《芒果街上的小屋》是一部文笔优美、感人至深的，讲述一个年轻拉丁裔女孩在贫困社区长大的复杂性的小说。
芒果街上的小屋好词好句摘抄英文
芒果街上的小屋好词好句摘抄英文The Little House on Mango Street is a novella written by Sandra Cisneros that e某plores the lives of Me某ican-American girls living in the inner-city. This novel is a perfect e某ample of a book that is written in simple English but is filled with powerful themes and characters. Here are some of the best quotes and passages from The Little House on Mango Street.1. "In English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters."2. "They always told us that being poor was a sin. But I didn't understand how it was a sin to be poor when Jesus himself was born in a manger."。
3. "The house on Mango Street is not the way they told it at all. It's small and red with tight steps in front and windows so small you'd think they were holding their breath."。
英语阅读赏析翻译芒果街上的小屋 芒果街上的小屋好句
英语阅读赏析翻译芒果街上的小屋芒果街上的小屋好句Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa’s hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos" hair is thick and straight. He doesn"t need to b it. Nenny"s hair is slippery 一slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair tike fur.我们家里每个人的头发都不一样。
爸爸的头发像扫把，根根直立往上插。
而我，我的头发挺懒惰。
它从来不听发夹和发带的话。
卡洛斯的头发又直又厚。
他不用梳头。
蕾妮的头发滑滑的—会从你手里溜走。
还有奇奇，他最小，茸茸的头发像毛皮。
But my mother"s hair, my mother"s hair, like little rosettes,like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pincurls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama"s hair that smells like bread.只有妈妈的头发，妈妈的头发，好像一朵朵小小的玫瑰花结，一枚枚小小的糖果圈儿，全都那么卷曲，那么漂亮，因为她成天给它们上发卷。
The House On The Mango Street 英文原文《芒果街上的小屋》第十、十一节赏析
Louie, His Cousin & His Other CousinDownstairs from Meme's is a basement apartment that Meme's mother fixed up and rented to a Puerto Rican(波多黎各人) family. Louie's family. Louie is the oldest in a family of little sisters. He is my brother's friend really, but I know he has two cousins and that his T-shirts never stay tucked in his pants. Louie's girl cousin is older than us. She lives with Louie's family because her own family is in Puerto Rico. Her name is Marin or Maris or something like that, and she wears dark nylons all the time and lots of makeup she gets free from selling Avon(雅芳). She can't come out—gotta baby-sit with Louie's sisters—but she stands in the doorway a lot, all the time singing, clicking her fingers, the same song:Apples, peaches, pumpkin pah-ay. You're in love and so am I ah-ay.Meme家的地下室里搬进了一家波多黎各人，芒果街的童声中又多了Louie和他的小妹妹们，Louie是哥哥的朋友，因为男生女生关系圈的缘故，Esperanza跟他并不熟悉，只打量过他——他从来不把上衣塞进裤子里去，此外倒是对他的两个表兄妹更加感兴趣。
The House On The Mango Street 英文原文《芒果街上的小屋》第八九节简析
Gil's Furniture Bought & SoldThere is a junk store. An old man owns it. We bought a used refrigerator from him once, and Carlos sold a box of magazines for a dollar. The store is small with just a dirty window for light. He doesn't turn the lights on unless you got money to buy things with, so in the dark we look and see all kinds of things, me and Nenny. Tables with their feet upside- down and rows and rows of refrigerators with round corners and couches that spin dust in the air when you punch them and a hundred TV's that don't work probably. Everything is on top of everything so the whole store has skinny aisles to walk through. You can get lost easy.这家旧货店又小又暗，所有陈货都堆垒在一起，好不容易才挤出可供行走的过道。
陈列的旧货对于小孩子来说，总是歪歪斜斜、藏污纳垢，颇显老态地一排排呆立着，充满着神秘感。
The owner, he is a black man who doesn't talk much and sometimes if you didn't know better you could be in there a long time before your eyes notice a pair of gold glasses floating in the dark. Nenny who thinks she is smart and talks to any old man, asks lots of questions. Me, I never said nothing to him except once when I bought the Statue of Liberty for a dime.店内昏暗不堪，从小孩的视角看过去，只能看到店老板的金丝眼镜反射的光，就像是浮在半空中。
芒果街上的小屋英文版读后感
芒果街上的小屋英文版读后感Reflections on "The House on Mango Street""The House on Mango Street" by Sandra Cisneros is a poignant and profound exploration of the inner world of a young Latina girl growing up in a low-income neighborhood. As I delved into the narratives of Esperanza, the protagonist, I was taken aback by the raw honesty and emotional depth of the stories. What initially seemed like a simple collection of vignettes about daily life in a Hispanic community soon revealed itself to be a complex tapestry of dreams, desires, and the challenges of growing up female and Hispanic in a society that often overlooks or misunderstands the unique experiences of its minority groups.The book is structured as a series of interconnected short stories, each focusing on a different aspect of Esperanza's life. From her relationship with her family, her friends, and the community members, to her own innermonologue about her dreams and aspirations, Cisneros weaves a narrative that is both deeply personal and universally resonant. Each story is like a window into Esperanza's soul, revealing her thoughts, feelings, and observations aboutthe world around her.One of the most striking aspects of the book is the authenticity of the language and cultural details.Cisneros's use of Spanish phrases, slang, and cultural references creates a vivid and authentic portrayal of the Hispanic community. This authenticity is crucial in conveying the nuances of Esperanza's experience and the unique challenges she faces as a member of a minority group. It also serves to break down barriers and misconceptions about Hispanic culture, allowing readers to connect with Esperanza's story on a deeper level.The themes explored in the book are both timely and timeless. From the importance of family and community tothe challenges of self-identity and female empowerment, "The House on Mango Street" speaks to the universal experiences of coming of age and finding one's place in theworld. Cisneros's powerful narratives about Esperanza's struggle to find her voice and her place within her family and community resonate deeply with readers of all backgrounds.The book's conclusion, where Esperanza imagines herself writing her own story and creating her own world, is particularly poignant. It serves as a powerful reminder of the transformative power of words and storytelling. Through her writing, Esperanza finds a way to claim her ownidentity and agency, transforming her life and the lives of those around her. This ending is both hopeful and empowering, leaving readers with a sense of optimism and the belief that every individual has the potential to create their own reality."The House on Mango Street" is a masterful work of literary fiction that deserves to be celebrated. It is a book that speaks to the hearts of readers of all ages and backgrounds, offering insights into the complexities of human experience and the transformative power of storytelling. As I closed the book, I found myselfreflecting not only on Esperanza's story but also on my own life experiences and the ways in which I can use my voice and my stories to create a more inclusive and understanding world.。
芒果街上的小屋好词好句摘抄英文带中文
芒果街上的小屋好词好句摘抄英文带中文1. Good Words:- Resilient (adj.): 有弹性的，能迅速恢复的- Melancholy (adj.): 忧郁的，悲伤的- Perseverance (n.): 坚持，毅力- Serendipity (n.): 意外发现的好运- tapestry (n.): 织锦，丰富多彩的景象2. Good Sentences:- "The house on Mango Street was small and red with tight steps in front and a little plot of dirt for a garden."“芒果街上的房子又小又红，前面有狭窄的台阶，还有一小块土地作为花园。
”- "In the winter, when the sun sets early, the little houses seemed to settle into themselves, the way old people do."“在冬天，当太阳早早地落下，这些小房子似乎沉静了下来，就像老年人那样。
”- "I knew then that I had to have a house, a real house that I could point to."“那时我就知道我必须有一个房子，一个我可以指给别人看的真正的房子。
”- "Someday I will have a house, a nice house of my own with flowers and a yard and swings and a place for my childrento play."“总有一天我会有一座房子，一座属于我自己的漂亮房子，有花朵、院子、秋千，还有我的孩子们玩耍的地方。
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Street
芒果街上的小屋
作者介绍
Sandra Cisneros
(桑德拉·希斯内罗丝)
Sandra Cisneros (born December 20, 1954) is an American writer best known for her acclaimed first novel The House on Mango Street (1984) and her subsequent short story collection Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories (1991).
Esperanza's story is that of a young girl coming into her power, and inventing for herself what she will become.
我的感受
The house on mango street is a very beautiful pure poetry ", a novel, "a coming-of-age, in writing about thl home. It is composed by several dozens of short story, a short one, one thing, a dream, a cloud, a few trees, several feeling, is described with approximate child tone, sometimes the author will tactfully to express the life. Here you can know that a child's imagination, a child's attitude toward life, a child's heart of compassion, her carefully, and feeling of life without stint, society and life. Life is so confusing, it can let a group of people find language, and let another group of people lost. But it is really wonderful, it tries to make a person in the edge, but he is behind. But it is not bad.
不管喜欢与否，你都是芒果街 的，有一天你也要回来的。
The End Thank you
美国当代著名诗人，1954年生于芝加哥。父母都是墨西 哥裔移民。30岁时凭借《芒果街上的小屋》成名，另著有 短篇故事集《喊女溪及其他》和诗集若干。
推荐理由
Told in a series of vignettes stunning for their eloquence, The House on Mango Street is Sandra Cisneros's greatly admired novel of a young girl growing up in the Latino section of Chicago.
Acclaimed by critics, beloved by children, their parents and grandparents, taught everywhere from inner-city grade schools to universities across the country, and translated all over the world, it has entered the canon of coming-of-age classics.
作者的话
我写的不单是美国的事情，也是你们 的。我肯定，在中国，也有这样一条芒果 街，陌生人去到那里时，会感到一种“恐 外”氛围。尤其，在我们今天生活的世界 中，如此多的群体在相互交融：城市居民 与乡村居民、中产者与贫民、男人与女人。 我们每天都在跨越疆域，甚至不用离开自 己的家就这样做了。
故事梗概
• Sometimes heartbreaking , sometimes deeply joyous, The House on Mango Street tells the story of Esperanza Cordero, whose neighborhood is one of harsh realities and harsh beauty. Esperanza doesn't want to belong--not to her rundown neighborhood, and not to the low expectations the world has for her.