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狄更斯的小说改变了玛蒂尔达对她的生活和周围的环境,让她画了她和Pip之间的相似之处,并给她提供了另一个世界,她可以逃脱。此外,文学有潜力打开我们的思想,不仅是什么,而是什么可能。像Iser,Stanley Fish,当代读者导向的评论家,认为意义是读者,而不是文本和文本是白板和读者决定形式和文本内容。他的理论激进而有争议。他说:“在我所敦促的程序中,读者的活动是注意力的中心,在那里他们不被认为是通向意义的,而是具有意义的。”他为这个想法辩护,因为他认为意义没有稳定的基础。没有正确的解释,将永远是真实的。文本中不存在意义。它存在于读者之中。从下面的报价,我们可以理解,玛蒂尔达解释她在读者反应批评的经验。现在我了解锻造书中的重要性。伪造的家:它涵盖了所有这些事情,让生活的形状。对我来说,这意味着布什的足迹,那些耸立在我们身上的山脉,有时会从我们身边逃离的大海,那是我看到布莱克肚子裂开的时候,我无法从鼻孔里闻到的那种成熟的气味。那是烈日。这是我们吃的水果,鱼,坚果。我们晚上听到的噪音。这是临时厕所的泥土气息。和高大的树木,它像大海一样,有时急切地想摆脱我们。这是丛林和它不断提醒你,你是多么渺小,和多么重要,相比巨大的树木和他们的树冠的贪婪的阳光。那是恐惧,是损失。


Dickens’ novel changes the way Matilda perceives her life and her surroundings, lets her to draw parallels between Pip and herself, and provides her with another world to which she can escape. Additionally, literature has the potential to open up our minds, not only to what is but to what could be. Like Iser, Stanley Fish, a contemporary reader – oriented critic, argues that meaning inheres in the reader, not the text and the text is tabula rasa and the reader determines the form and content of the text. His theory is radical and controversial. He states that “In the procedures I would urge, “the reader’s activities are at the center of attention, where they are regarded not as leading to meaning but as having meaning.” He defends this idea because he believes that there is no stable basis for meaning. There is no correct interpretation that will always be true. Meaning does not exist in the text. It exists, rather, within the reader. From this following quotation, we can comprehend that Matilda interprets her experiences in the light of reader-response criticism.By now I understood the importance of the forge in the book. The forge was home: it embraced all those things that give a life its shape. For me, it meant the bush tracks, the mountains that stood over us, the sea that sometimes ran away from us, it was the ripe smell of blood I could not get out of my nostrils since I saw Black with its belly ripped open. It was the hot sun. It was the fruits we ate, the fish, the nuts. The noises we heard at night. It was the earthy smell of the makeshift latrines. And the tall trees, which like the sea, sometimes looked eager to get away from us. It was the jungle and its constant reminder of how small you were, and how unimportant, compared to the giant trees and their canopy’s greed for sunlight. […] It was fear, and it was loss. (Jones 46)


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