书名：Lost Horizon消失的地平线

难度：Lexile蓝思阅读指数1060L

作者：James Hilton

出版社名称：Vintage

出版时间：2011

语种：英文

ISBN：9780099595861

商品尺寸：12.9 x 1.4 x 19.8 cm

包装：平装

页数：224 （以实物为准）

★乌托邦小说经典，精彩情节令英国女王伊丽莎白二世、美国总统罗斯福都念念不忘！

《消失的地平线》处处体现着“悬疑”，飞机被劫持、神秘的蓝月山谷，“我们将要到哪里”这一疑问屡屡出现；这种疑问上升到哲学层面，成为对精神归宿的思考与探索。 ★一部小说创造了“香格里拉”这个让所有旅人魂牵梦萦的远方！心中的日月，香格里拉，这是汇集一切美好的世外桃源，满足了我们心中对爱与远方的神秘憧憬，引发全世界的众多读者踏上寻找香格里拉的旅程。    ★有一颗安宁纯净的心，“香格里拉”并不遥远！“香格里拉”不仅是地名，而且成为精神的故乡，“做到温和隐忍、关注心灵、发挥才智”，会发现“香格里拉”也许就在自己的心里。 Lost Horizon《消失的地平线》是英国作家詹姆斯·希尔顿的代表作，获得英国著名的“霍桑登文学奖”。全世界有百万读者因为这本书，踏上寻找香格里拉的旅途。好莱坞投资250万美元将小说拍成同名电影，公映后轰动全球，连续三年打破票房纪录。 Flying out of India, a light aircraft is hi-jacked and flown into the high Tibetan Himalayas. The few passengers on board anxiously await their fate, among them Conway, a talented British consul. But on landing they are unexpectedly conducted to a remote valley, a legendary paradise of peace and beauty, known as Shangri-La. Have they been kidnapped? Can they escape? And do they even want to? Review'A prophetic, thought-provoking story' -- Bournemouth Echo

Lost Horizon《消失的地平线》讲述了英国驻巴基斯坦的领事康维及助手马林逊上尉、法国传教士布琳克罗小姐、美国人巴纳德在飞机失事后的神奇之旅。侥幸生还的他们来到了一座寺庙里，这里隐藏着世外桃源般的幽静和神秘；附近洁白无瑕的金字塔状的卡拉卡尔雪山，单纯得如同出自一个孩童的手迹；狭长的蓝月亮山谷内，生活着自足幸福的人们，淳朴而热情。翠玉似的草旬、明镜般的湖泊、丰富的金矿、辉煌的寺庙、肖邦的失传之曲、永不老去的少女……万物都沉浸在宁静的喜乐中，没有繁杂的琐事和无谓的纷争，时光缓缓流动。人与人、人与自然和谐相处，美丽得让人窒息。在这里——Shangri-La（香格里拉），太阳和月亮就停泊在你心中。詹姆斯·希尔顿，英国著名畅销书作家，因创作以香格里拉为主题的小说《消失的地平线》闻名于世。1900年生于英格兰，剑桥大学毕业，大学时代即从事小说创作，33岁成为霍桑登文学奖获得者，42岁荣膺奥斯卡剧本奖。代表作《消失的地平线》、《万世师表》，风靡全世界。

James Hilton (1900–1954) was a bestselling English novelist and Academy Award–winning screenwriter. Hilton worked as a journalist until the success of his novels Lost Horizon (1933) and Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1934) launched his career as a celebrated author. After moving to California, Hilton continued to write novels and screenplays.

During that third week of May the situation in Baskul had becomemuch worse and, on the 20th, Air Forcemachines arrived by arrangement from Peshawur to evacuate the white residents. These numbered about eighty, and most were safely transported across the mountains in troop—carriers. A few miscellaneous aircraft were also employed, among them being a cabin machine lent by the Maharajah of Chandapore. In this, about 10 am, four passengers embarked: Miss Roberta Brinklo of the Eastern Mission; Henry D. Barnard, a US citizen; Hugh Conway, HM Consul; and Captain Charles Mallinson, HM Vice-Consul.

These names arc as they appeared later in Indian and British newspapers. Conway was thirty-seven. He had been at Baskul for two years, in a job which now, in the light of events, could be regarded as a persistent backing of the wrong horse. A stage of his life was finished with; in a few weeks’ time, or perhaps after a few months’ leave in England, he would be sent somewhere else. Tokio or Tehran, Manila or Muscat, people in his profession never knew what as coining. He had been ten years in the Consular Service, long enough to assess his own chances as shrewdly as he was apt to do those of others. He knew that the plums were not for him; but it was genuinely consoling, and not merely sour grapes, to reflect chat he had no taste for plums. He preferred the less formal and more picturesque jobs that were on offer, and as these were often not good ones, it had doubtless seemed to others that he was playing his cards rather badly. Actually, to suit his own tastes, he felt he had played them ratherwell; he had had a varied and moderately enjoyable decade. Hewas call, deeply bronzed, with brown, short—cropped hair and slate—blue eyes. He was inclined to look severe and brooding until he laughed, and then (but it happened not so very often) he looked boyish. There was a slight nervous twitch near the left eye which was usually noticeable when he worked too hard or drank too much, and as he had been packing and destroying documents throughout the whole of the day and night preceding the evacuation, the twitch was very conspicuous when he climbed into the aeroplane. He was tired out, and overwhelmingly glad that he had contrived to be sent in the maharajah’s luxurious air liner instead of in one of the crowded troop-carriers. He spread himself indulgently in the basket seat as the plane soared aloft. He was the sort of man who, being used to major hardships, expects minor comforts by way of compensation.