书名：The Shining 闪灵

难度：Lexile蓝思阅读指数890L

作者：Stephen King

出版社名称：Anchor

出版时间：2012

语种：英文

ISBN：9780307743657

商品尺寸：10.6 x 2.8 x 17.3 cm

包装：简装

页数：688

The Shining《闪灵》是美国目前非常活跃的杰出作家之一斯蒂芬·金的代表作。电影大师库布里克根据小说改编的同名电影，名列百部经典恐怖电影榜之首！ 细节层层铺陈，惊悚步步逼近，人性渐渐沉沦，直至滑向罪恶的深渊！ 直接人心，拷问人性，展现灵魂，精准演绎人在极端环境中的挣扎与反思！ 媒体推荐“可怕！……以轻松的步调持续不断地呈上恐怖大餐。”——《纽约时报》 “这部恐惧的小说会攫住你，冷却你的血液，让恐惧充斥你的内心。”——《纳什维尔旗帜报》 “继埃德加•爱伦•坡之后，（斯蒂芬•金）可能是较了解恐怖是如何在密闭的、孤立的空间运行的作家。”——《娱乐周刊》 “A master storyteller.” —Los Angeles Times “Scary!… Serves up horrors at a brisk, unflagging pace.” —The New York Times “This chilling novel will haunt you, and make your blood run cold and your heart race with fear.” —Nashville Banner “Guaranteed to frighten you into fits.… with a climax that is literally explosive.” —Cosmopolitan “The most wonderfully gruesome man on the planet.” —USA Today “An undisputed master of suspense and terror.” —The Washington Post  “[King] probably knows more about scary goings-on in confined, isolated places than anybody since Edgar Allan Poe.” —Entertainment Weekly “He’s the author who can always make the improbable so scary you’ll feel compelled to check the locks on the front door.” —The Boston Globe “Peerless imagination.” —The Observer (London) 

杰克•托伦斯，业余作家，人到中年而失业，困窘不堪。为养家糊口，不惜选择在冬季大雪封山、与世隔绝的山间老饭店做临时管理员。于是在饭店准备冬季歇业之时，杰克带着妻子温迪、儿子丹尼来到位于科罗拉多州的全景饭店。 五岁的小男孩丹尼天生具有一种超感预知的能力——“闪灵”。在全家出发之前，他就做噩梦梦到了不祥之兆。自从杰克一家住进全景饭店后，离奇诡异的事件接二连三地发生：被杀虫剂杀死的黄蜂成群复活，剪成动物形状的绿色树篱蠢蠢欲动，无人的房间里响起咚咚的脚步声……杰克无意中在地下室的旧纸堆中发现了关于饭店历史的剪报簿，沉迷其中，精神日渐委顿。幼小的丹尼预感到了各种危险，变得不知所措；而杰克性情大变，喜怒无常，不时对温迪和丹尼暴力相向；温迪无法忍受丈夫的疯狂，陷入绝望…… 空寂阴森的饭店使一家人的内心狂躁不安，沉重怪诞的寂静中，疯狂与绝望正在蔓延……丹尼的“闪灵”越来越强烈了。 在这大雪封山、与外界隔绝的全景饭店中，除了托伦斯一家人，黑暗深处还有谁在与他们共享饭店呢？ Jack Torrance’s new job at the Overlook Hotel is the perfect chance for a fresh start. As the off-season caretaker at the atmospheric old hotel, he’ll have plenty of time to spend reconnecting with his family and working on his writing. But as the harsh winter weather sets in, the idyllic location feels ever more remote… and more sinister. And the only one to notice the strange and terrible forces gathering around the Overlook is Danny Torrance, a uniquely gifted five-year-old.

斯蒂芬·金（Stephen King）1947年出生于美国缅因州波特兰市，后在缅因州州立大学学习英国文学，毕业后因工资菲薄而走上写作之路。自1973年出版首部长篇小说《魔女嘉莉》后，迄今已著有40多部长篇小说和两百多部短篇小说。其作品是近年来美国畅销书排行榜上的常客，还被翻译成30多种语言。有超过百部影视作品取材自他的小说。他因此被誉为“现代惊悚小说大师”。1999年，斯蒂芬·金遭遇严重车祸，侥幸大难不死。在康复后，他又立刻投入写作。2003年，他获得美国国家图书基金会颁发的“杰出贡献奖”。其后又先后获得世界奇幻文学奖“终身成就奖”和美国推理作家协会“爱伦·坡奖”的“大师奖”。在斯蒂芬·金的众多作品中，以历时30余年才终于完成的奇幻巨著“黑暗塔”系列（共七卷）颇为壮观，也很受金迷推崇，书里的人物与情节，散见于斯蒂芬·金的其他小说中，堪称他极重要的作品。近年来的新作有短篇集《日落之后》，中篇集《暗夜无望》和长篇小说《11/22/63》《穹预之下》等。目前斯蒂芬·金与妻子居住于缅因州。 Stephen King is the author of more than fifty books, all of them worldwide bestsellers. His recent work includes The Bill Hodges Trilogy—Mr. Mercedes (an Edgar Award winner for Best Novel), Finders Keepers, and End of Watch; the short story collection The Bazaar of Bad Dreams; Revival; Doctor Sleep; and Under the Dome. His novel 11/22/63 was named a top ten book of 2011 by The New York Times Book Review and won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for Mystery/Thriller. His epic series, The Dark Tower, is the basis for a major motion picture from Sony. He is the recipient of the 2014 National Medal of Arts and the 2003 National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. He lives in Bangor, Maine, with his wife, novelist Tabitha King.

Excerpted from Chapter OneJack Torrance thought: Officious little prick.  Ullman stood five-five, and when he moved, it was with the prissy speed that seems to be the exclusive domain of all small plump men. The part in his hair was exact, and his dark suit was sober but comforting. I am a man you can bring your problems to, that suit said to the paying customer. To the hired help it spoke more curtly: This had better be good, you. There was a red carnation in the lapel, perhaps so that no one on the street would mistake Stuart Ullman for the local undertaker.  As he listened to Ullman speak, Jack admitted to himself that he probably could not have liked any man on that side of the desk—under the circumstances.  Ullman had asked a question he hadn’t caught. That was bad; Ullman was the type of man who would file such lapses away in a mental Rolodex for later consideration.  “I’m sorry?”  “I asked if your wife fully understood what you would be taking on here. And there’s your son, of course.” He glanced down at the application in front of him. “Daniel. Your wife isn’t a bit intimidated by the idea?” “Wendy is an extraordinary woman.”  “And your son is also extraordinary?”  Jack smiled, a big wide PR smile. “We like to think so, I suppose. He’s quite self-reliant for a five-year-old.”  No returning smile from Ullman. He slipped Jack’s application back into a file. The file went into a drawer. The desk top was now completely bare except for a blotter, a telephone, a Tensor lamp, and an in/out basket. Both sides of the in/out were empty, too. Ullman stood up and went to the file cabinet in the corner. “Step around the desk, if you will, Mr. Torrance. We’ll look at the hotel floor plans.” He brought back five large sheets and set them down on the glossy walnut plane of the desk. Jack stood by his shoulder, very much aware of the scent of Ullman’s cologne. All my men wear English Leather or they wear nothing at all came into his mind for no reason at all, and he had to clamp his tongue between his teeth to keep in a bray of laughter. Beyond the wall, faintly, came the sounds of the Overlook Hotel’s kitchen, gearing down from lunch. “Top floor,” Ullman said briskly. “The attic. Absolutely nothing up there now but bric-a-brac. The Overlook has changed hands several times since World War II and it seems that each successive manager has put everything they don’t want up in the attic. I want rattraps and poison bait sowed around in it. Some of the third-floor chambermaids say they have heard rustling noises. I don’t believe it, not for a moment, but there mustn’t even be that one-in-a-hundred chance that a single rat inhabits the Overlook Hotel.” Jack, who suspected that every hotel in the world had a rat or two, held his tongue. “Of course you wouldn’t allow your son up in the attic under any circumstances.” “No,” Jack said, and flashed the big PR smile again. Humiliating situation. Did this officious little prick actually think he would allow his son to goof around in a rattrap attic full of junk furniture and God knew what else? Ullman whisked away the attic floor plan and put it on the bottom of the pile. “The Overlook has one hundred and ten guest quarters,” he said in a scholarly voice. “Thirty of them, all suites, are here on the third floor. Ten in the west wing (including the Presidential Suite), ten in the center, ten more in the east wing. All of them command magnificent views.” Could you at least spare the salestalk? But he kept quiet. He needed the job. Ullman put the third floor on the bottom of the pile and they studied the second floor. “Forty rooms,” Ullman said, “thirty doubles and ten singles. And on the first floor, twenty of each. Plus three linen closets on each floor, and a storeroom which is at the extreme east end of the hotel on the second floor and the extreme west end on the first. Questions?” Jack shook his head. Ullman whisked the second and first floors away. “Now. Lobby level. Here in the center is the registration desk. Behind it are the offices. The lobby runs for eighty feet in either direction from the desk. Over here in the west wing is the Overlook Dining Room and the Colorado Lounge. The banquet and ballroom facility is in the east wing. Questions?” “Only about the basement,” Jack said. “For the winter caretaker, that’s the most important level of all. Where the action is, so to speak.” “Watson will show you all that. The basement floor plan is on the boiler room wall.” He frowned impressively, perhaps to show that as manager, he did not concern himself with such mundane aspects of the Overlook’s operation as the boiler and the plumbing. “Might not be a bad idea to put some traps down there too. Just a minute...” He scrawled a note on a pad he took from his inner coat pocket (each sheet bore the legend From the Desk of Stuart Ullman in bold black script), tore it off, and dropped it into the out basket. It sat there looking lonesome. The pad disappeared back into Ullman’s jacket pocket like the conclusion of a magician’s trick. Now you see it, Jacky-boy, now you don’t. This guy is a real heavyweight.