°£Æí°áÁ¦, ½Å¿ëÄ«µå û±¸ÇÒÀÎ
ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ© ·Ôµ¥Ä«µå 5% (6,420¿ø)
(ÃÖ´ëÇÒÀÎ 10¸¸¿ø / Àü¿ù½ÇÀû 40¸¸¿ø)
ºÏÇǴϾð ·Ôµ¥Ä«µå 30% (4,730¿ø)
(ÃÖ´ëÇÒÀÎ 3¸¸¿ø / 3¸¸¿ø ÀÌ»ó °áÁ¦)
NH¼îÇÎ&ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ©Ä«µå 20% (5,400¿ø)
(ÃÖ´ëÇÒÀÎ 4¸¸¿ø / 2¸¸¿ø ÀÌ»ó °áÁ¦)
Close

Jane Eyre (Oxford World Classics) (New Jacket)

¼Òµæ°øÁ¦

2013³â 9¿ù 9ÀÏ ÀÌÈÄ ´©Àû¼öÄ¡ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.

ÆǸÅÁö¼ö 42
?
ÆǸÅÁö¼ö¶õ?
»çÀÌÆ®ÀÇ ÆǸŷ®¿¡ ±â¹ÝÇÏ¿© ÆǸŷ® ÃßÀ̸¦ ¹Ý¿µÇÑ ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ© µµ¼­¿¡¼­ÀÇ µ¶¸³ÀûÀÎ ÆǸŠÁö¼öÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ÇöÀç °¡Àå Àß Æȸ®´Â »óÇ°¿¡ °¡ÁßÄ¡¸¦ µÎ¾ú±â ¶§¹®¿¡ ½ÇÁ¦ ´©Àû ÆǸŷ®°ú´Â ´Ù¼Ò Â÷ÀÌ°¡ ÀÖÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. ÆǸŷ® ¿Ü¿¡µµ ´Ù¾çÇÑ °¡ÁßÄ¡·Î ±¸¼ºµÇ¾î ÃÖ±ÙÀÇ À̽´µµ¼­ È®Àνà À¯¿ëÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. ÇØ´ç Áö¼ö´Â ¸ÅÀÏ °»½ÅµË´Ï´Ù.
Close
°øÀ¯Çϱâ
Á¤°¡

7,500¿ø

  • 6,750¿ø (10%ÇÒÀÎ)

    210P (3%Àû¸³)

ÇÒÀÎÇýÅÃ
Àû¸³ÇýÅÃ
  • S-Point Àû¸³Àº ¸¶ÀÌÆäÀÌÁö¿¡¼­ Á÷Á¢ ±¸¸ÅÈ®Á¤ÇϽŠ°æ¿ì¸¸ Àû¸³ µË´Ï´Ù.
Ãß°¡ÇýÅÃ
  • 5/7(È­) À̳» ¹ß¼Û ¿¹Á¤  (¼­¿ï½Ã °­³²±¸ »ï¼º·Î 512)
  • ¹è¼Ûºñ : 2,500¿ø
  • ÁÖ¹®¼ö·®
    °¨¼Ò Áõ°¡
    • À̺¥Æ®/±âȹÀü

    • ¿¬°üµµ¼­(16)

    • »óÇ°±Ç

    AD

    ÃâÆÇ»ç ¼­Æò

    Orphaned into the household of her Aunt Reed at Gateshead, subject to the cruel regime at Lowood charity school, Jane Eyre nonetheless emerges unbroken in spirit and integrity. She takes up the post of governess at Thornfield, falls in love with Mr. Rochester, and discovers the impediment to their lawful marriage in a story that transcends melodrama to portray a woman's passionate search for a wider and richer life than Victorian society traditionally allowed. With a heroine full of yearning, the dangerous secrets she encounters, and the choices she finally makes, Charlotte Bronte's innovative and enduring romantic novel continues to engage and provoke readers.

    ¸ñÂ÷

    Introduction
    Select Bibliography
    Note on the text
    A Chronology of Jane Eyre
    Jane Eyre
    Appendix: Opinions of the Press as printed at the end of the third edition
    Explanatory Notes

    º»¹®Áß¿¡¼­

    Chapter 1


    There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise was now out of the question.
    I was glad of it; I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
    The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mamma in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group, saying, ¡°She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner?something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were?she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy little children.¡±
    ¡°What does Bessie say I have done?¡± I asked.
    ¡°Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speakpleasantly, remain silent.¡±
    A small breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase; I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
    Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves in my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near, a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.
    I returned to my book?Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of ¡°the solitary rocks and promontories¡± by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape?

    Where the Norther Ocean, in vast whirls,
    Boils round the naked, melancholy isles
    Of farthest' Thule; and the Atlantic surge
    Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.

    Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with ¡°the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space?that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold.¡± Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains, but strangely impressive.

    Ã¥¼Ò°³

    'Such a strange book! Imagine a novel with a little swarthy governess for heroine, and a middle-aged ruffian for hero.'

    Sharpe's London Magazine (June 1855)


    Jane Eyre is an orphan grown up under the harsh regime first of her aunt and then as a pupil at Lowood Institution. She leaves to become a governess to the daughter of the mysterious Mr Rochester; gradually their relationship deepens, but Jane's passionate nature has yet to endure its deepest blows.

    In this new edition Sally Shuttleworth explores the power of a narrative that questions the rights of women, the nature of servitude and madness, martyrdom and rebellion in a story whose emotional charge is a strong today as it was more than 150 years ago.

    Readership: For all students, scholars, teachers of Bronte. Also has wide trade appeal.

    ÀúÀÚ¼Ò°³

    ¼£·µ ºê·ÐÅ× [Àú] ½ÅÀ۾˸² SMS½Åû
    »ý³â¿ùÀÏ 18160421

    1816³â 4¿ù 21ÀÏ ¿äÅ©¼Å ÁÖÀÇ ¼ÕÅÏ¿¡¼­ ¿µ±¹ ±¹±³È¸ ¸ñ»çÀÇ ¼Â° µþ·Î ž´Ù. ´Ù¼¸ »ì¿¡ ¾î¸Ó´Ï¸¦ ¿©ÀÇ°í Àڸŵé°ú ÇÔ²² Àá½Ã ±â¼÷Çб³¿¡ ´Ù³æ´Âµ¥, Çб³ÀÇ ¿­¾ÇÇÑ È¯°æ ¶§¹®¿¡ ¿µ¾ç½ÇÁ¶¿Í Æó·Å¿¡ °É·Á µÎ ¾ð´Ï¸¶Àú ÀÒ¾ú´Ù. 1825³âºÎÅÍ 5³â µ¿¾È, ÈÄÀÏ¡ºÆødzÀÇ ¾ð´ö¡»À» ¾²°Ô µÉ µ¿»ý ¿¡¹Ð¸®¿Í ÇÔ²² Áý¿¡¼­ µ¶ÇÐÀ¸·Î °øºÎ¸¦ Çß°í, ÀÌ ½Ã±âºÎÅÍ ¼£·µÀº ½Ã¸¦ ¾²±â ½ÃÀÛÇÑ´Ù. 1831³â ¼£·µÀº ¿¡¹Ð¸®¿Í ÇÔ²² ·ÎÇìµå¿¡ ÀÖ´Â »ç¸³ ±â¼÷Çб³¿¡ µé¾î°¬À¸³ª ¿¡¹Ð¸®´Â ½ÉÇÑ Çâ¼öº´¿¡ ½Ã´Þ·Á 3°³¿ù ¸¸¿¡ ÁýÀ¸·Î µ¹¾Æ°£´Ù. ¼£·µÀº ±×°÷¿¡¼­ 3³â°£ ±³»ç »ýÈ°À» ÇÏ¿´Áö¸¸ °Ç°­À» ÇØÃļ­

    ÆîÃ帱â

    ¸®ºä

    8.0 (ÃÑ 0°Ç)

    100ÀÚÆò

    ÀÛ¼º½Ã À¯ÀÇ»çÇ×

    ÆòÁ¡
    0/100ÀÚ
    µî·ÏÇϱâ

    100ÀÚÆò

    0.0
    (ÃÑ 0°Ç)

    ÆǸÅÀÚÁ¤º¸

    • ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ©µµ¼­¿¡ µî·ÏµÈ ¿ÀǸ¶ÄÏ »óÇ°Àº ±× ³»¿ë°ú Ã¥ÀÓÀÌ ¸ðµÎ ÆǸÅÀÚ¿¡°Ô ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ©µµ¼­´Â ÇØ´ç »óÇ°°ú ³»¿ë¿¡ ´ëÇØ Ã¥ÀÓÁöÁö ¾Ê½À´Ï´Ù.

    »óÈ£

    (ÁÖ)±³º¸¹®°í

    ´ëÇ¥ÀÚ¸í

    ¾Èº´Çö

    »ç¾÷ÀÚµî·Ï¹øÈ£

    102-81-11670

    ¿¬¶ôó

    1544-1900

    ÀüÀÚ¿ìÆíÁÖ¼Ò

    callcenter@kyobobook.co.kr

    Åë½ÅÆǸž÷½Å°í¹øÈ£

    01-0653

    ¿µ¾÷¼ÒÀçÁö

    ¼­¿ïƯº°½Ã Á¾·Î±¸ Á¾·Î 1(Á¾·Î1°¡,±³º¸ºôµù)

    ±³È¯/ȯºÒ

    ¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯ ¹æ¹ý

    ¡®¸¶ÀÌÆäÀÌÁö > Ãë¼Ò/¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯/ȯºÒ¡¯ ¿¡¼­ ½Åû ¶Ç´Â 1:1 ¹®ÀÇ °Ô½ÃÆÇ ¹× °í°´¼¾ÅÍ(1577-2555)¿¡¼­ ½Åû °¡´É

    ¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯°¡´É ±â°£

    º¯½É ¹ÝÇ°ÀÇ °æ¿ì Ãâ°í¿Ï·á ÈÄ 6ÀÏ(¿µ¾÷ÀÏ ±âÁØ) À̳»±îÁö¸¸ °¡´É
    ´Ü, »óÇ°ÀÇ °áÇÔ ¹× °è¾à³»¿ë°ú ´Ù¸¦ °æ¿ì ¹®Á¦Á¡ ¹ß°ß ÈÄ 30ÀÏ À̳»

    ¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯ ºñ¿ë

    º¯½É ȤÀº ±¸¸ÅÂø¿À·Î ÀÎÇÑ ¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯Àº ¹Ý¼Û·á °í°´ ºÎ´ã
    »óÇ°À̳ª ¼­ºñ½º ÀÚüÀÇ ÇÏÀÚ·Î ÀÎÇÑ ±³È¯/¹ÝÇ°Àº ¹Ý¼Û·á ÆǸÅÀÚ ºÎ´ã

    ¹ÝÇ°/±³È¯ ºÒ°¡ »çÀ¯

    ·¼ÒºñÀÚÀÇ Ã¥ÀÓ ÀÖ´Â »çÀ¯·Î »óÇ° µîÀÌ ¼Õ½Ç ¶Ç´Â ÈÑ¼ÕµÈ °æ¿ì
    (´ÜÁö È®ÀÎÀ» À§ÇÑ Æ÷Àå ÈѼÕÀº Á¦¿Ü)

    ·¼ÒºñÀÚÀÇ »ç¿ë, Æ÷Àå °³ºÀ¿¡ ÀÇÇØ »óÇ° µîÀÇ °¡Ä¡°¡ ÇöÀúÈ÷ °¨¼ÒÇÑ °æ¿ì
    ¿¹) È­ÀåÇ°, ½ÄÇ°, °¡ÀüÁ¦Ç°(¾Ç¼¼¼­¸® Æ÷ÇÔ) µî

    ·º¹Á¦°¡ °¡´ÉÇÑ »óÇ° µîÀÇ Æ÷ÀåÀ» ÈѼÕÇÑ °æ¿ì
    ¿¹) À½¹Ý/DVD/ºñµð¿À, ¼ÒÇÁÆ®¿þ¾î, ¸¸È­Ã¥, ÀâÁö, ¿µ»ó È­º¸Áý

    ·½Ã°£ÀÇ °æ°ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ÀçÆǸŰ¡ °ï¶õÇÑ Á¤µµ·Î °¡Ä¡°¡ ÇöÀúÈ÷ °¨¼ÒÇÑ °æ¿ì

    ·ÀüÀÚ»ó°Å·¡ µî¿¡¼­ÀÇ ¼ÒºñÀÚº¸È£¿¡ °üÇÑ ¹ý·üÀÌ Á¤ÇÏ´Â ¼ÒºñÀÚ Ã»¾àöȸ Á¦ÇÑ ³»¿ë¿¡ ÇØ´çµÇ´Â °æ¿ì

    »óÇ° Ç°Àý

    °ø±Þ»ç(ÃâÆÇ»ç) Àç°í »çÁ¤¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Ç°Àý/Áö¿¬µÉ ¼ö ÀÖÀ½

    ¼ÒºñÀÚ ÇÇÇغ¸»ó
    ȯºÒÁö¿¬¿¡ µû¸¥ ¹è»ó

    ·»óÇ°ÀÇ ºÒ·®¿¡ ÀÇÇÑ ±³È¯, A/S, ȯºÒ, Ç°Áúº¸Áõ ¹× ÇÇÇغ¸»ó µî¿¡ °üÇÑ »çÇ×Àº ¼ÒºñÀÚºÐÀïÇØ°á ±âÁØ (°øÁ¤°Å·¡À§¿øȸ °í½Ã)¿¡ ÁØÇÏ¿© 󸮵Ê

    ·´ë±Ý ȯºÒ ¹× ȯºÒÁö¿¬¿¡ µû¸¥ ¹è»ó±Ý Áö±Þ Á¶°Ç, ÀýÂ÷ µîÀº ÀüÀÚ»ó°Å·¡ µî¿¡¼­ÀÇ ¼ÒºñÀÚ º¸È£¿¡ °üÇÑ ¹ý·ü¿¡ µû¶ó ó¸®ÇÔ

    (ÁÖ)KGÀ̴Ͻýº ±¸¸Å¾ÈÀü¼­ºñ½º¼­ºñ½º °¡ÀÔ»ç½Ç È®ÀÎ

    (ÁÖ)ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ©Ä¿¸Ó½º´Â ȸ¿ø´ÔµéÀÇ ¾ÈÀü°Å·¡¸¦ À§ÇØ ±¸¸Å±Ý¾×, °áÁ¦¼ö´Ü¿¡ »ó°ü¾øÀÌ (ÁÖ)ÀÎÅÍÆÄÅ©Ä¿¸Ó½º¸¦ ÅëÇÑ ¸ðµç °Å·¡¿¡ ´ëÇÏ¿©
    (ÁÖ)KGÀ̴Ͻýº°¡ Á¦°øÇÏ´Â ±¸¸Å¾ÈÀü¼­ºñ½º¸¦ Àû¿ëÇÏ°í ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù.

    ¹è¼Û¾È³»

    • ±³º¸¹®°í »óÇ°Àº Åùè·Î ¹è¼ÛµÇ¸ç, Ãâ°í¿Ï·á 1~2Àϳ» »óÇ°À» ¹Þ¾Æ º¸½Ç ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù.

    • Ãâ°í°¡´É ½Ã°£ÀÌ ¼­·Î ´Ù¸¥ »óÇ°À» ÇÔ²² ÁÖ¹®ÇÒ °æ¿ì Ãâ°í°¡´É ½Ã°£ÀÌ °¡Àå ±ä »óÇ°À» ±âÁØÀ¸·Î ¹è¼ÛµË´Ï´Ù.

    • ±ººÎ´ë, ±³µµ¼Ò µî ƯÁ¤±â°üÀº ¿ìü±¹ Åù踸 ¹è¼Û°¡´ÉÇÕ´Ï´Ù.

    • ¹è¼Ûºñ´Â ¾÷ü ¹è¼Ûºñ Á¤Ã¥¿¡ µû¸¨´Ï´Ù.

    • - µµ¼­ ±¸¸Å ½Ã 15,000¿ø ÀÌ»ó ¹«·á¹è¼Û, 15,000¿ø ¹Ì¸¸ 2,500¿ø - »óÇ°º° ¹è¼Ûºñ°¡ ÀÖ´Â °æ¿ì, »óÇ°º° ¹è¼Ûºñ Á¤Ã¥ Àû¿ë