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书名：The English Patient 英国病人
难度：Lexile蓝思阅读指数910L
作者：Michael Ondaatje迈克尔·翁达杰
出版社名称：Bloomsbury Publishing
出版时间：2018
语种：英文 
ISBN：9781526605900
商品尺寸：27 x 2.7 x 13.1 cm
包装：平装
页数：336

The English Patient《英国病人》是加拿大作家迈克尔·翁达杰创作的长篇小说，1992年获英国布克奖、加拿大总督文学奖。故事讲述了第二次世界大战末期，意大利一栋废弃别墅里，四个伤心人的因缘际会。根据小说改编的同名电影，获第69届奥斯卡九项大奖。

2018年7月8日，为纪念布克奖创办50年而颁发的“金布克奖”（The Golden Man Booker Prize）在伦敦揭晓，迈克尔·翁达杰的《英国病人》摘得殊荣。

推荐理由：
1. 加拿大著名作家迈克尔翁达杰代表作，金布克奖获奖作品；
2. 安东尼·明格拉执导、奥斯卡9项大奖电影《英国病人》原著；
3. 英文原版，原汁原味，内容无删减；

精彩书评：
“这部作品在史诗感和亲密感之间无缝衔接，这一刻你看到的是无垠荒漠，下一刻你看到一个护士把一片李子放进病人的嘴。语言精巧，结构漂亮，每一页都渗透着人文主义气息”。         ——“金布克奖”评审之一、斯里兰卡裔英国小说家卡米拉·山姆西

我一直很喜欢迈克尔·翁达杰的作品，读到《英国病人》这部小说时，我觉得它非常美，像一首诗，所以我就想把它改编成剧本。——电影导演安东尼·明格拉

应该给《英国病人》戴上三重冠。这本书深邃，优美，触动心灵。——美国作家托妮·莫里森

《英国病人》是杰作，一部丰富而引人入胜的小说。——美国作家唐·德里罗

《英国病人》是一部激情之作，神奇，标新立异，可以让人一直读下去。——美国理查德·福特

《英国病人》充满美感、神秘、狂热，它将读者引入另一个世界，并揭示这个世界与我们自身之间的关系。——《旧金山论坛报》

WINNER OF THE GOLDEN MAN BOOKER PRIZE 2018

Review
A masterpiece (Financial Times)

Magnificent(Sunday Times)

Extraordinary (Daily Telegraph)

The English Patient wears the triple crown: it is profound, beautiful and heart-quickening (Toni Morrison)

Language of such riveting beauty that one is made to stop and stare(Observer)

One of the most innovative and liberating writers of our time(Guardian)

The best piece of fiction in English I've read in years(Independent on Sunday)

An exotic, consuming and richly inspired novel of passion. In its elegance and its satisfactions it resembles no book I know(Richard Ford)

Feats of daring espionage, aeroplanes mysteriously buried beneath desert sand, archaeological exploration in the Sahara and nail-biting accounts of bomb-disposal against a nervous clock . this is the real thing: muscular, resonant, alive (Spectator)

In descriptive prose of spectacular beauty, he invents a desert world which is both physical and imaginative. This is one of the few truly great post-war novels(Irish Times)

The English Patient《英国病人》是加拿大作家迈克尔·翁达杰的代表作，一九九二年获得英国布克奖和加拿大总督文学奖。
迈克尔·翁达杰用优美而抒情的笔触，描绘了二次世界大战末期，意大利一栋废弃别墅里，四个伤心人的因缘际会。他们生活在世外桃源一般的风景中，却无法享受战争结束带来的和平与安宁。
在战争中失去父与孩子，身心俱疲的汉娜，固执地照顾着自己一个病人。卡拉瓦乔，因偷窃技能成为战争英雄，也因此失去了双手的拇指，他只能通过吗啡来重新想象自己是谁。印度士兵基普，聪明、机警，在这个除了他自己任何东西都不安全的地方拆除地雷和炸弹。全身被烧焦的英国病人，终日躺在病床上，陷于回忆和幻觉之中。为了拯救爱人，他担当卖国之名，深入大沙漠，但他整整迟到了三年……
The final curtain is closing on the Second World War, and Hana, a nurse, stays behind in an abandoned Italian villa to tend to her only remaining patient. Rescued by Bedouins from a burning plane, he is English, anonymous, damaged beyond recognition and haunted by his memories of passion and betrayal. The only clue Hana has to his past is the one thing he clung on to through the fire - a copy of The Histories by Herodotus, covered with hand-written notes describing a painful and ultimately tragic love affair.

迈克尔·翁达杰，加拿大小说家、诗人。生于斯里兰卡，十一岁随母亲来到英国，十九岁移居加拿大，现居多伦多。
迄今为止，翁达杰共出版了六部长篇小说、一部回忆录和十多部诗集及非虚构作品。其中，《英国病人》（1992）获英国布克奖、加拿大总督文学奖，后被英国导演安东尼·明格拉于一九九六年改编拍成同名电影，获得九项奥斯卡金像奖，大获成功；《安尼尔的鬼魂》（2000）获加拿大总督文学奖、吉勒文学奖和法国美第奇外国文学奖；《遥望》（2007）获加拿大总督文学奖。
迈克尔·翁达杰的文字富于想象，兼具视觉和听觉效果，为诗歌和小说两个领域都注入了新的生机。
Michael Ondaatje is the author of several novels, as well as a memoir, a non-fiction book on film, and several books of poetry. Among his many Canadian and international recognitions, his novel The English Patient won the Booker Prize and the 2018 Golden Man Booker Prize, and was adapted into a multi-award-winning Oscar movie; and Anil's Ghost won the Giller Prize, the Irish Times International Fiction Prize, and the Prix Médicis. Born in Sri Lanka, Michael Ondaatje lives in Toronto.

She stands up in the garden where she has been working and looks into the distance. She has sensed a shift in the weather. There is another gust of wind, a buckle of noise in the air, and the tall cypresses sway. She turns and moves uphill toward the house, climbing over a low wall, feeling the first drops of rain on her bare arms. She crosses the loggia and quickly enters the house.
In the kitchen she doesn't pause but goes through it and climbs the stairs which are in darkness and then continues along the long hall, at the end of which is a wedge of light from an open door.
She turns into the room which is another garden--this one made up of trees and bowers painted over its walls and ceiling. The man lies on the bed, his body exposed to the breeze, and he turns his head slowly towards her as she enters.
Every four days she washes his black body, beginning at the destroyed feet. She wets a washcloth and holding it above his ankles squeezes the water onto him, looking up as he murmurs, seeing his smile. Above the shins the burns are worst. Beyond purple. Bone.
She has nursed him for months and she knows the body well, the penis sleeping like a sea horse, the thin tight hips. Hipbones of Christ, she thinks. He is her despairing saint. He lies flat on his back, no pillow, looking up at the foliage painted onto the ceiling, its canopy of branches, and above that, blue sky.
She pours calamine in stripes across his chest where he is less burned, where she can touch him. She loves the hollow below the lowest rib, its cliff of skin. Reaching his shoulders she blows cool air onto his neck, and he mutters.
What? she asks, coming out of her concentration.
He turns his dark face with its gray eyes towards her. She puts her hand into her pocket. She unskins the plum with her teeth, withdraws the stone and passes the flesh of the fruit into his mouth.
He whispers again, dragging the listening heart of the young nurse beside him to wherever his mind is, into that well of memory he kept plunging into during those months before he died.