卡洛·李生於1906年12月30日。曾在坎達培利的皇家學校就讀，16歲的時候就在舞台上表演。當他參加著名偵探作家愛德華·利斯的舞台演出後與 其成為好友，並且因他的關係而進入影壇。1936年，終於升為正式導演。第一部作品是《Midshipman easy》，同一年還導演了《Laburnum Grove》，這是劇作家J·B·普里斯特利的戲劇作品，他將它電影化了，並且因此而受到電影界納賞識。1937年導演《銀行假日》，從此被認為是最有前 途的導演。1939年導演《星星下凡》這部具有社會性的作品，發揮了他最擅長的紀錄片手法，奠定了他在影壇的地位。1952年英國政府授子他「爵士」封 號。1969年以《霧都孤兒》獲奧斯卡最佳導演獎。
| 1968 | Oliver! | Academy Award for Best Director |
作品
Sir Carol ReedThe son of actor-producer Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree and his mistress, May Pinney Reed,[2] Carol Reed was born in Putney, and educated at The King's School, Canterbury, an independent school. Reed served in the British Army during the Second World War, giving him many experiences which appeared in his later films.
Career and personal life
He embarked on an acting career while still in his teens, but soon went into the role of producer/director. He worked as an Assistant Director with Basil Dean on the films Autumn Crocus, Lorna Doone and Loyalties and with Thorold Dickinson on Java Head. As director he was responsible for The Stars Look Down (1939), Kipps (1941), Odd Man Out (1947), The Fallen Idol (1948), Outcast of the Islands (1952), Our Man in Havana (1959), and The Agony and the Ecstasy (1965). The Fallen Idol, The Third Man, and Our Man in Havana are based on the work of Graham Greene.From 1943 until 1947, he was married to the British film star Diana Wynyard. After their divorce, he married, in 1948, the actress Penelope Dudley Ward, also known as Pempie, the elder daughter of Freda Dudley Ward, who had been a mistress of the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII of the United Kingdom and Duke of Windsor. They had one son, Max. A nephew was the actor Oliver Reed. His stepdaughter, Miss Ward's daughter, Tracy Reed, acted in numerous films.[citation needed]
In 1953, he became only the second British film director to be knighted for his craft. The first was his mentor and collaborator, Sir Alexander Korda in 1942, who had also been closely involved in the production of some of Reed's most admired films.
*****
要透過紐約時報這篇書評來了解這位英國怪才Arthur Ransome (1884 -1967)是很不夠的
最起碼該讀一下
Arthur Ransome - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Arthur Michell Ransome (18 January 1884 – 3 June 1967) was an English author and journalist. He is best known for writing the Swallows and Amazons series ...
書評
燕子、鸚鵡與雙重間諜
報道 2012年07月19日
在20世紀的作家中，亞瑟·蘭瑟姆(Arthur
Ransome)是個可愛卻又無足輕重*的角色*。一代又一代英國讀者是讀着他的《燕子與鸚鵡》(Swallows and
Amazons)系列青少年小說成長起來的，這個系列第一本出版於1930年。在這12本書中，孩子們在英國的湖區或別的什麼地方度假，盡情享受航行、露
營、釣魚與扮演海盜嬉戲的歡樂。當代讀者是看着《飢餓遊戲》，體驗着在虛構的帕姆國發生的嗜血遊戲長大，他們也許會感覺這個系列太平淡，但小說本身其實非
常迷人，敘事精彩。這幾個星期，我在醞釀著該如何講述蘭瑟姆的人生，每當我向英國朋友提起他的名字，總會引來會心一笑；而向美國人提起時，卻只能換回一臉
茫然。
*
錯誤的翻譯: 非第一流 (重要)的
這句有點微妙它的意思是傳主飽受讀者喜愛 雖然稱不上第一流的文人
蘭瑟姆是在45歲時，方開始創作《燕子與鸚鵡》，此前他一直從事駐外記者工作。從第一次世界大戰、俄國革命到之後的俄國內戰，他有11年的時間頻繁 出入俄羅斯，為幾家英國報紙撰稿。在眾多報道戰事的記者中，包括了像約翰·里德(John Reed)這種毫不掩飾的蘇共支持者；蘭瑟姆同樣也只是個小角色，在他看來革命暴動與其說讓人歡欣鼓舞，倒不如說勞命傷財。他告訴母親：“俄羅斯非常好， 但說太多俄羅斯不僅會讓人疲憊，甚或教人發瘋。”即使是在跟進重大新聞時，他也夢想着英國綠意盎然、風景如畫的景緻，渴望能找一片這樣的地方構思作品。
讀者對《燕子與鸚鵡》經久不息的喜愛，使得數本關於蘭瑟姆的圖書都擁有一定的讀者群，這當中包括幾本他的傳記、他本人的回憶錄，以及2003年出
版、由泰德·亞歷山大(Ted Alexander )與塔蒂亞娜·維日茲尼科娃(Tatiana
Verizhnikova)合寫的研究專著《蘭瑟姆在俄羅斯》(Ransome in
Russia)，後者與《最後的英國人》所涉及的領域基本一致。這本新作的作者羅蘭德·錢伯斯(Roland
Chamber)是英國童書作家，他在書中懷疑蘭瑟姆充任雙重間諜角色，在為布爾什維克效力的同時，也在為英國情報機關工作。儘管錢伯斯並沒有找到蘭瑟姆
叛國的新證據，但已有的證據足以證明，蘭瑟姆確實是個令人起疑、受到收買的記者。
蘭瑟姆的工作習慣肯定會讓他的編輯們抓狂。儘管在1917年4月，當列寧來到芬蘭車站，着手奪取布爾什維克政權時，蘭瑟姆本人就在現場，但他卻疏忽 了，並沒有向他工作的倫敦左翼報紙《每日新聞報》(Daily News)發去報道。在當年晚些時候，彼得格勒陷入了陰謀與反陰謀的漩渦中，而他卻在此時回到英國，去度他期待已久的假期，在十月革命發生時根本就不在 場。錢伯斯在書中寫道：“當列寧打開了20世紀政治史或許最重要的篇章時，《每日新聞報》的駐俄記者身在方特山(Fonthill)，釣着鱸魚。”
這位釣魚愛好者很快回到俄羅斯，並與布爾什維克領導人走得很近，其中關係最近的當屬卡爾·拉狄克(Karl Radek)，事後可以推斷，這位負責西方輿論宣傳的主管像撥弄一把俄式三弦琴一樣，將蘭瑟姆玩弄於股掌之間。蘭瑟姆受到了增進英俄友誼宣傳口號的感召， 撰寫了一系列新聞稿件，旗幟鮮明地支持布爾什維克，忽略了聲稱在革命中也發揮了作用的其他左翼黨派。這些報道的內容錯得很徹底。蘭瑟姆否認了俄共（布）會 背叛協約國，與德國單獨媾和，可就在不久以後俄羅斯就做了這件事。此後，他又不斷對蘇聯做出的政治鎮壓輕描淡寫。
蘭瑟姆與俄共（布）之間最複雜的關聯，是他與一位年輕秘書伊夫吉尼婭·謝利皮娜(Evgenia Shelepina)之間發生的婚外情。他是在採訪她的上司列昂·托洛茨基(Leon Trotsky)時遇見了她。他們之間的關係使得他得以登堂入室，走進權力高層，他的私人關係也因此跟工作職責混為一談。同時，為了讓謝利皮娜獲得簽證， 與他一起出行，他還需要尋求英國外交部的特殊照顧。後來他與第一任妻子離婚（她帶着他的女兒留在英國），與謝利皮娜結婚。
當他堅守在布爾什維克陣線發稿的同時，英國情報部門給了他行動暗號“S76”和經費。在如今，記者與情報機關勾結在一塊會認為是極端不職業的行為。 即使是在當時這種安排都有違常規，但他在《每日新聞報》的編輯顯然對此知情。他的很多報道還刊登在《紐約時報》上，不過錢伯斯並未在書中暗示，這份美國報 紙知道蘭瑟姆與特勤部門的合作內情。《紐約時報》一度在頭版刊登蘭瑟姆的新聞稿，但在8個月後終止了雙方的合作關係（後來《紐約時報》也在莫斯科派駐記 者，但這位叫沃爾特·杜蘭提[Walter Duranty]的記者同樣有問題，他在1921年到1940年間為該報報道蘇聯新聞，在報道中他對蘇聯的殘暴行徑做出了淡化處理，並否認了烏克蘭的大饑 荒）。
錢伯斯發現，蘭瑟姆為英國情報機關所做的事，無非是深入介紹了新的蘇聯政府領導人的個性。他也向蘇聯方面提供了關於英國官員的類似信息，這些信息在 他看來，多半有利於兩國的共同利益。間或他還充任兩國的中間人。兩國政府態度都很謹慎而好鬥，在1918年布爾什維克粉碎了一起英國資助的政變後情況尤其 如此，而俄方之所以能一舉識破陰謀，也許是因為蘭瑟姆告了密——至少錢伯斯基於少量間接證據，做出了這種推測。就跟本書的主人公一樣，《最後的英國人》過 於倚重靠不住的論據和粗淺的研究。
離開蘇聯後，蘭瑟姆和謝利皮娜在溫德米爾湖東岸找了一棟小屋子住下，這裡離《燕子和鸚鵡》系列發生的場景很近。布爾什維克距離他已經非常遙遠。直至 1967年去世之前，蘭瑟姆一直做着他最愛的事情：航行、釣魚、寫作。帶着幾分苦笑，他回憶起在克里姆林宮出入的歲月，他說，在那時，自己無非是“一個被 瘋子抽來打去的羽毛球”。
*
錯誤的翻譯: 非第一流 (重要)的
這句有點微妙它的意思是傳主飽受讀者喜愛 雖然稱不上第一流的文人
蘭瑟姆是在45歲時，方開始創作《燕子與鸚鵡》，此前他一直從事駐外記者工作。從第一次世界大戰、俄國革命到之後的俄國內戰，他有11年的時間頻繁 出入俄羅斯，為幾家英國報紙撰稿。在眾多報道戰事的記者中，包括了像約翰·里德(John Reed)這種毫不掩飾的蘇共支持者；蘭瑟姆同樣也只是個小角色，在他看來革命暴動與其說讓人歡欣鼓舞，倒不如說勞命傷財。他告訴母親：“俄羅斯非常好， 但說太多俄羅斯不僅會讓人疲憊，甚或教人發瘋。”即使是在跟進重大新聞時，他也夢想着英國綠意盎然、風景如畫的景緻，渴望能找一片這樣的地方構思作品。
蘭瑟姆的工作習慣肯定會讓他的編輯們抓狂。儘管在1917年4月，當列寧來到芬蘭車站，着手奪取布爾什維克政權時，蘭瑟姆本人就在現場，但他卻疏忽 了，並沒有向他工作的倫敦左翼報紙《每日新聞報》(Daily News)發去報道。在當年晚些時候，彼得格勒陷入了陰謀與反陰謀的漩渦中，而他卻在此時回到英國，去度他期待已久的假期，在十月革命發生時根本就不在 場。錢伯斯在書中寫道：“當列寧打開了20世紀政治史或許最重要的篇章時，《每日新聞報》的駐俄記者身在方特山(Fonthill)，釣着鱸魚。”
這位釣魚愛好者很快回到俄羅斯，並與布爾什維克領導人走得很近，其中關係最近的當屬卡爾·拉狄克(Karl Radek)，事後可以推斷，這位負責西方輿論宣傳的主管像撥弄一把俄式三弦琴一樣，將蘭瑟姆玩弄於股掌之間。蘭瑟姆受到了增進英俄友誼宣傳口號的感召， 撰寫了一系列新聞稿件，旗幟鮮明地支持布爾什維克，忽略了聲稱在革命中也發揮了作用的其他左翼黨派。這些報道的內容錯得很徹底。蘭瑟姆否認了俄共（布）會 背叛協約國，與德國單獨媾和，可就在不久以後俄羅斯就做了這件事。此後，他又不斷對蘇聯做出的政治鎮壓輕描淡寫。
蘭瑟姆與俄共（布）之間最複雜的關聯，是他與一位年輕秘書伊夫吉尼婭·謝利皮娜(Evgenia Shelepina)之間發生的婚外情。他是在採訪她的上司列昂·托洛茨基(Leon Trotsky)時遇見了她。他們之間的關係使得他得以登堂入室，走進權力高層，他的私人關係也因此跟工作職責混為一談。同時，為了讓謝利皮娜獲得簽證， 與他一起出行，他還需要尋求英國外交部的特殊照顧。後來他與第一任妻子離婚（她帶着他的女兒留在英國），與謝利皮娜結婚。
當他堅守在布爾什維克陣線發稿的同時，英國情報部門給了他行動暗號“S76”和經費。在如今，記者與情報機關勾結在一塊會認為是極端不職業的行為。 即使是在當時這種安排都有違常規，但他在《每日新聞報》的編輯顯然對此知情。他的很多報道還刊登在《紐約時報》上，不過錢伯斯並未在書中暗示，這份美國報 紙知道蘭瑟姆與特勤部門的合作內情。《紐約時報》一度在頭版刊登蘭瑟姆的新聞稿，但在8個月後終止了雙方的合作關係（後來《紐約時報》也在莫斯科派駐記 者，但這位叫沃爾特·杜蘭提[Walter Duranty]的記者同樣有問題，他在1921年到1940年間為該報報道蘇聯新聞，在報道中他對蘇聯的殘暴行徑做出了淡化處理，並否認了烏克蘭的大饑 荒）。
錢伯斯發現，蘭瑟姆為英國情報機關所做的事，無非是深入介紹了新的蘇聯政府領導人的個性。他也向蘇聯方面提供了關於英國官員的類似信息，這些信息在 他看來，多半有利於兩國的共同利益。間或他還充任兩國的中間人。兩國政府態度都很謹慎而好鬥，在1918年布爾什維克粉碎了一起英國資助的政變後情況尤其 如此，而俄方之所以能一舉識破陰謀，也許是因為蘭瑟姆告了密——至少錢伯斯基於少量間接證據，做出了這種推測。就跟本書的主人公一樣，《最後的英國人》過 於倚重靠不住的論據和粗淺的研究。
離開蘇聯後，蘭瑟姆和謝利皮娜在溫德米爾湖東岸找了一棟小屋子住下，這裡離《燕子和鸚鵡》系列發生的場景很近。布爾什維克距離他已經非常遙遠。直至 1967年去世之前，蘭瑟姆一直做着他最愛的事情：航行、釣魚、寫作。帶着幾分苦笑，他回憶起在克里姆林宮出入的歲月，他說，在那時，自己無非是“一個被 瘋子抽來打去的羽毛球”。
Ken Kalfus最近出版的小說是《A Disorder Peculiar to the Country》。他的新作《Equilateral》將在明年出版。
本文最初發表於2012年5月27日。
翻譯：詹涓
本文最初發表於2012年5月27日。
翻譯：詹涓
Swallows, Amazons and Bolsheviks
2012年07月19日
Arthur Ransome is a beloved if minor
figure in 20th-century letters. Generations of British readers have
grown up with his “Swallows and Amazons” series of young adult novels,
the first of which was published in 1930. In these 12 books, children on
holiday in the Lake District of England and elsewhere occupy themselves
sailing, camping, fishing and playing at pirates. Contemporary readers
raised on blood sport in Panem may find the series tame, but the novels
are charming and well told. In the few weeks that I’ve contemplated the
story of Ransome’s life, every mention of his name to a British
acquaintance has elicited a fond smile; from every American it has drawn
a blank.
Ransome began “Swallows and Amazons” at the age of 45 after concluding a career as a foreign correspondent. Writing for several British papers, he spent 11 years in and out of Russia during World War I, the revolution and the civil war that followed. Among the ranks of journalists who covered these events, including overt partisans like John Reed, he again cut a minor figure, one who found revolutionary ferment less exhilarating than taxing. “Russia is all very well,” he told his mother, “but too much Russia makes men mad, besides wearing them out.” Even when chasing the big story, he longed for the lush green English landscape and a place to cast his line.
The enduring affection for “Swallows and Amazons” has ensured a
readership for several biographies of Ransome, his own memoir and a 2003
study, “Ransome in Russia,” by Ted Alexander and Tatiana Verizhnikova,
that covers very much the same ground as “The Last Englishman.” In this
new volume, Roland Chambers, a British author of children’s books,
wonders whether Ransome served as a double agent, working on behalf of
the Bolsheviks as well as for British intelligence. Although Chambers
doesn’t find new evidence of treachery, the old evidence of a confused
and compromised journalist is damning enough.
Ransome’s work habits must have driven his editors nuts. Although he was present at the Finland Station in April 1917 when Lenin arrived to begin the campaign for Bolshevik power, Ransome neglected to file a report to his paper, London’s left-leaning Daily News. Later that year, with Petrograd in a whirl of plots and counterplots, he took a much-desired holiday in Britain and was not on hand for the October Revolution. “As Lenin opened perhaps the most significant chapter in the history of 20th-century politics,” Chambers writes, “the Russian correspondent for The Daily News was at Fonthill, fishing for perch.”
The angler soon returned to develop close relations with the Bolshevik leaders, especially Karl Radek, the shrewd, ebullient chief of Western propaganda, who, it may be inferred, played him like a balalaika. Motivated mostly by a desire for Anglo-Russian friendship, Ransome filed stories that were emphatically pro-Bolshevik and slighted the other leftist parties still claiming a role in the revolution. The reports were also quite wrong. Ransome denied that the Bolsheviks would ever betray the Allies by making a separate peace with Germany, which they shortly did. Later, he consistently played down Soviet political repression.
Ransome’s most complicated involvement with the Bolsheviks was his affair with a young secretary, Evgenia Shelepina, whom he met while doing an interview with her boss, Leon Trotsky. The liaison eased his way into the halls of power, conflating his personal and professional responsibilities. It also required that he seek extraordinary assistance from the British Foreign Office so Shelepina could obtain a visa to travel with him. She would become his second wife, after his divorce from the first, who had remained with his daughter in England.
At the same time as his dispatches adhered to the Bolshevik line, Ransome was given a code name, S76, and money from His Majesty’s Secret Service. Today collusion by a journalist with an intelligence agency would be considered repugnantly unprofessional. Even then the arrangement was irregular, but his editors at The Daily News were apparently aware of it. Many of his articles also appeared in The New York Times, though Chambers doesn’t suggest that the American paper knew of the collaboration. Eight months after it began running his articles on the front page, The Times ended the relationship. (It would later send to Moscow its own problematic journalist. Walter Duranty, who covered Russia for the paper from 1921 to 1940, underplayed Soviet brutalities and denied the Ukrainian famine.)
Chambers finds that Ransome did nothing more for the intelligence service than provide insight into the personalities at the head of the new Soviet government. He gave the Soviets the same kind of information about British officials, much of it reflecting what he believed was best for the countries’ common interests. He also served as the occasional go-between. The two governments were wary and combative, especially after the Bolsheviks foiled a 1918 British-sponsored coup, possibly because Ransome tipped them off — or so Chambers speculates, on slim circumstantial evidence. Much like its subject, “The Last Englishman” relies too much on uncertain argument and indifferent scholarship.
After leaving Russia, Ransome and Shelepina found a cottage on the east bank of Lake Windermere, not far from where he would set “Swallows and Amazons.” The Bolsheviks were very far away. Until his death in 1967, Ransome did what he loved best: sailing, fishing and writing. He looked back at the years when he had been given entree to the Kremlin with some wry amusement, as a time when he was no more than “a shuttlecock bandied to and fro by lunatics.”
Ransome began “Swallows and Amazons” at the age of 45 after concluding a career as a foreign correspondent. Writing for several British papers, he spent 11 years in and out of Russia during World War I, the revolution and the civil war that followed. Among the ranks of journalists who covered these events, including overt partisans like John Reed, he again cut a minor figure, one who found revolutionary ferment less exhilarating than taxing. “Russia is all very well,” he told his mother, “but too much Russia makes men mad, besides wearing them out.” Even when chasing the big story, he longed for the lush green English landscape and a place to cast his line.
Ransome’s work habits must have driven his editors nuts. Although he was present at the Finland Station in April 1917 when Lenin arrived to begin the campaign for Bolshevik power, Ransome neglected to file a report to his paper, London’s left-leaning Daily News. Later that year, with Petrograd in a whirl of plots and counterplots, he took a much-desired holiday in Britain and was not on hand for the October Revolution. “As Lenin opened perhaps the most significant chapter in the history of 20th-century politics,” Chambers writes, “the Russian correspondent for The Daily News was at Fonthill, fishing for perch.”
The angler soon returned to develop close relations with the Bolshevik leaders, especially Karl Radek, the shrewd, ebullient chief of Western propaganda, who, it may be inferred, played him like a balalaika. Motivated mostly by a desire for Anglo-Russian friendship, Ransome filed stories that were emphatically pro-Bolshevik and slighted the other leftist parties still claiming a role in the revolution. The reports were also quite wrong. Ransome denied that the Bolsheviks would ever betray the Allies by making a separate peace with Germany, which they shortly did. Later, he consistently played down Soviet political repression.
Ransome’s most complicated involvement with the Bolsheviks was his affair with a young secretary, Evgenia Shelepina, whom he met while doing an interview with her boss, Leon Trotsky. The liaison eased his way into the halls of power, conflating his personal and professional responsibilities. It also required that he seek extraordinary assistance from the British Foreign Office so Shelepina could obtain a visa to travel with him. She would become his second wife, after his divorce from the first, who had remained with his daughter in England.
At the same time as his dispatches adhered to the Bolshevik line, Ransome was given a code name, S76, and money from His Majesty’s Secret Service. Today collusion by a journalist with an intelligence agency would be considered repugnantly unprofessional. Even then the arrangement was irregular, but his editors at The Daily News were apparently aware of it. Many of his articles also appeared in The New York Times, though Chambers doesn’t suggest that the American paper knew of the collaboration. Eight months after it began running his articles on the front page, The Times ended the relationship. (It would later send to Moscow its own problematic journalist. Walter Duranty, who covered Russia for the paper from 1921 to 1940, underplayed Soviet brutalities and denied the Ukrainian famine.)
Chambers finds that Ransome did nothing more for the intelligence service than provide insight into the personalities at the head of the new Soviet government. He gave the Soviets the same kind of information about British officials, much of it reflecting what he believed was best for the countries’ common interests. He also served as the occasional go-between. The two governments were wary and combative, especially after the Bolsheviks foiled a 1918 British-sponsored coup, possibly because Ransome tipped them off — or so Chambers speculates, on slim circumstantial evidence. Much like its subject, “The Last Englishman” relies too much on uncertain argument and indifferent scholarship.
After leaving Russia, Ransome and Shelepina found a cottage on the east bank of Lake Windermere, not far from where he would set “Swallows and Amazons.” The Bolsheviks were very far away. Until his death in 1967, Ransome did what he loved best: sailing, fishing and writing. He looked back at the years when he had been given entree to the Kremlin with some wry amusement, as a time when he was no more than “a shuttlecock bandied to and fro by lunatics.”
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