It was the best of times,it was the worst of times,it was the age of wisdom,it was the age of foolishness,it was the epoch of belief,it was the epoch of incredulity.
it was the season of Light,it was the season of Darkness,it was the spring of hope,it was the winter of despair,we had everything before us,we had nothing before us.
we were all going direct to Heaven,we were all going direct the other way--in short,the period was so far like the present period,that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received,for good or for evil,in the superlative degree of comparison only.
《双城记》是英国作家查尔斯·狄更斯所著的一部以法国大革命为背景所写成的长篇历史小说，首次出版于1859年。
故事中将巴黎、伦敦两个大城市连结起来，围绕着曼马内特医生一家和以德发日夫妇为首的圣安东尼区展开故事。小说里描写了贵族如何败坏、如何残害百姓，人民心中积压对贵族的刻骨仇恨，导致了不可避免的法国大革命。书名中的“双城”指的是巴黎与伦敦。
扩展资料：
创作背景
时代背景
该小说创作于19世纪50年代，正处于英国资本主义经济快速发展时期，资本主义发展带来的种种罪恶和劳动人民生活的贫困化，导致下层群众中存在极端的愤懑与不满。
英国社会处于爆发一场社会大革命的边缘，这与18世纪末法国的社会现状极为相似，狄更斯通过对两个城市的对比，给当时的英国社会以借鉴及警醒。
文学素材
据狄更斯在序言中所说的，1857年在狄更斯和他的孩子们、朋友们一起演出威尔基·柯林斯先生的剧本《冰海深处》时，他开始有了这个故事的主要构想。《冰海深处》的主人公是一个被心爱的姑娘抛弃后，在北极探险时为拯救情敌而牺牲的青年。
这种人物的塑造完全和狄更斯产生了共鸣，也完全符合狄更斯对一个有道义的人的定义：舍己为人，品德高尚。这为他在《双城记》中构思出卡顿这个人物形象提供了素材资料。
作品主题
小说《双城记》中厄弗里蒙得侯爵兄弟的残暴、抢占妇女、草菅人命等一系列行为与狄更斯提倡的人道主义精神背道而驰，像如此这般的恶魔势力必遭到社会的唾弃，厄弗里蒙得兄弟是当时贵族的一个缩影，这样有违人道主义精神的形象必定会被人民抛弃。
正如小说中法国大革命的瞬时爆发，就是法国统治者有违人道主义的必然趋势，这鲜明的传达了作者的人道主义思想。小说中马内特医生的以德报怨，为了自己女儿的幸福，将自己发之天性的对厄弗里蒙得家族的憎恶压制心底，用宽容宽恕的心态接纳查尔斯。
以及文中最后深爱露西的卡顿为了露西的幸福代替查尔斯上断头台，这一切无不体现狄更斯的人道主义思想。
《双城记》以法国大革命为背景，透过贵族与平民之间的仇旧冲突，作者狄更斯传达“鲜血无法洗去仇恨，更不能替代爱”的主旨，贵族的暴虐对平民造成的伤痛不会因为鲜血而愈合，平民对贵族的仇恨也无法替代对已逝亲人的爱。
小说深刻地揭露了法国大革命前深深激化了的社会矛盾，强烈地抨击贵族阶级的荒淫残暴，并深切地同情下层人民的苦难。作品尖锐地指出，人民群众的忍耐是有限度的，在贵族阶级的残暴统治下，人民群众迫于生计，必然奋起反抗。这种反抗是正义的。
小说还描绘了起义人民攻击巴士底狱等壮观场景，表现了人民群众的伟大力量。作者站在人道主义的立场上，既反对残酷压迫人民的暴政，也反对革命人民过于极端的暴力。
但《双城记》备受争议，因为在狄更斯笔下，失控阶段的革命演变成了巨大灾难，狄更斯批判革命人民盲目屠杀，在憎恨贵族社会对他们残酷压迫的同时，自己也变成了一种畸形的社会阶层，除了仇恨和报复，一无所有。
狄更斯反对滥杀无辜。他反对任何种类的暴力，贫穷的起诉，或复仇的穷人盲人。他认识到革命的思想的到来是不可避免的；但当革命来临，带来许多可怕的情况和血腥场面，他转而反对革命。
狄更斯的态度从原先的识别革命到后来的否定形成了巨大的反差，但有一个一致的标准：就是反对暴力和滥杀无辜，并促进了人文主义和爱。狄更斯主张非暴力社会改革家，他拒绝在暴力中革命。他认为革命暴力不能解决根本问题，而理性与宽容，善良和爱是要建立一个和平与和谐社会。
参考资料：百度百科-双城记
The Period
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever.
It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, a sat this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane brood.
France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself besides, with such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to comedown and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses old some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, be spattered with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about with muffled tread: the rather, for as much as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous.
In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night; families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing their furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the highwayman in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of `the Captain, ' gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the mail was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and then got shot dead himself by the other four, `in consequence of the failure of his ammunition:' after which the mail was robbed in Peace; that magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand and deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the illustrious creature insight of all his retinue; prisoners in London gaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law fired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball; thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at Court drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles's, to search for contraband goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the musketeers fired on the mob, and nobody thought any of these occurrences much out of the common way. In the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy and ever worse than useless, was in constant requisition; now, stringing up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now, hanging a house-breaker on Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now, burning people in the hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets at the door of Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious murderer, and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy of sixpence.
All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded, those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and the fair laces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights with a high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures--the creatures of this chronicle among the rest--along the roads that lay before them.