
The Spike
- ÀúÀÚGeorge Orwell
- ÃâÆÇ»çµµµðµå
- ÃâÆÇÀÏ2014-07-01
- µî·ÏÀÏ2015-02-09
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Á¶Áö ¿ÀÀ£ÀÇ ¼öÇÊÀÌ´Ù.It was late-afternoon. Forty-nine of us, forty-eight men and one woman, lay on the green waiting for the spike to open. We were too tired to talk much. We just sprawled about exhaustedly, with home-made cigarettes sticking out of our scrubby faces. Overhead the chestnut branches were covered with blossom, and beyond that great woolly clouds floated almost motionless in a clear sky. Littered on the grass, we seemed dingy, urban riff-raff. We defiled the scene, like sardine-tins and paper bags on the seashore.
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¿¡¸¯ ¾Æ¼ ºí·¹¾î(Eric Arthur Blair, 1903³â 6¿ù 25ÀÏ ~ 1950³â 1¿ù 21ÀÏ)´Â Àεµ¿¡¼ ÅÂ¾î³ ¿µ±¹ ÀÛ°¡ÀÌÀÚ ¾ð·ÐÀÎÀ¸·Î, Á¶Áö ¿ÀÀ£(George Orwell)À̶ó´Â ÇʸíÀ¸·Î ´õ Àß ¾Ë·ÁÁ® ÀÖ´Ù. ±×´Â 20¼¼±â ¿µ¾î±ÇÀÇ °¡Àå Áß¿äÇÑ ¼Ò¼³°¡, ºñÆò°¡, Á¤Ä¡Æò·Ð°¡ Áß ÇÑ ¸íÀÌ¸ç ¿µ¾î±Ç¿¡¼ ³Î¸® Á¸°æ¹Þ°í ÀÖ´Ù. ±×´Â ¸¸³âÀÇ µÎ ¼Ò¼³ ¡¶µ¿¹° ³óÀå¡·°ú ¡¶1984³â¡·À¸·Î ƯÈ÷ À¯¸íÇØÁ³´Ù.1950³â¿¡ ¿À·§µ¿¾È ¾Î¾Æ ¿Â °áÇÙÀ¸·Î ¼¼»óÀ» ¶°³µ´Ù.