了不起的火箭
Oh Really? The Rocket That Missed Its Own Party!
In Victorian times, fireworks were not just pretty lights—they were status symbols for royalty. A single 'rocket' could cost as much as a servant's yearly wage! But here's the shocker: in Oscar Wilde's story, the most boastful rocket never even gets launched. Instead, he is soaked by a careless workman and left in a ditch, where he lectures a frog and a duck. Wilde wrote this tale in 1888 as a satire of people who talk big but do nothing—proving that true worth isn't about loud promises, but humble actions.
In the kingdom of a great and mighty king, a grand royal wedding was announced. The Prince was to marry a beautiful Russian Princess, and the whole land buzzed with excitement. The King, determined to make the celebration unforgettable, ordered a spectacular fireworks display. In the palace garden, workmen carefully arranged countless fireworks, each one eager to burst into color. Among them was the Remarkable Rocket, a firework of extraordinary size and even more extraordinary self-regard. As he was placed among the others, he felt immensely proud, convinced that he was the most important firework of all. He puffed out his chest and declared to anyone who would listen that he was destined for greatness, and that the wedding would be remembered not for the Prince and Princess, but for him.
The Rocket turned to the other fireworks and began to boast. "I come from a noble lineage," he announced. "My father was a rocket of great renown, and my mother was the most sensitive firework ever made. I am extremely sensitive. If I were to cry, it would ruin me completely. But I am far too important to cry." The other fireworks, who had heard such talk before, grew tired of his endless chatter. They whispered among themselves, wishing he would be quiet. But the Rocket paid no attention. He continued to speak of his extraordinary talents and his future glory, convinced that everyone was as fascinated by him as he was by himself.
As the workmen hurried to set up the display, one of them carelessly tossed the Remarkable Rocket aside. With a splash, the Rocket landed in a muddy ditch. The water soaked through his paper casing, and mud clung to his sides. The Rocket was shocked and disgusted. "This is an outrage!" he cried. "I am a firework of the highest quality, and I have been thrown into a ditch! But this is only a temporary setback. I shall soon rise above this and shine brilliantly for all to see." He tried to maintain his dignity, but the mud was cold and uncomfortable. Still, he refused to believe that anything could truly go wrong for someone as remarkable as himself.
A Frog, who lived in the ditch, hopped over to the Rocket. "Hello there," croaked the Frog. "What brings you to our humble ditch?" The Rocket looked down his nose at the Frog. "I am a firework of noble birth," he declared. "I am not accustomed to conversing with frogs. I am destined for great things, and you are, well, a frog." But the Frog was not offended. He persisted, croaking about the wonders of the ditch—the cool water, the tasty insects, the lovely mud. The Rocket grew more and more annoyed. "I have no interest in your ditch," he snapped. "I am meant for the sky, not for this muddy hole." The Frog shrugged and hopped away, leaving the Rocket to sulk.
Just then, a Dragonfly landed on a reed nearby. The Rocket saw his chance to impress someone new. "Ah, a dragonfly!" he exclaimed. "You have arrived at the perfect moment. Allow me to tell you about my glorious future. I am the Remarkable Rocket, and I am destined to create the most magnificent display the world has ever seen. My brilliance will light up the sky, and everyone will cheer my name." The Dragonfly listened for a moment, then yawned. "That sounds rather boring," she said. "I prefer to enjoy the present moment." And with a flutter of her wings, she flew away. The Rocket was left feeling misunderstood and unappreciated. "No one appreciates true greatness," he sighed.
A Duck waddled by and peered into the ditch. "Why are you sitting in there?" she asked. The Rocket drew himself up as best he could. "I am the Remarkable Rocket," he replied. "I was accidentally thrown into this ditch, but I am destined for greatness. I shall soon be retrieved and will light up the sky at the royal wedding." The Duck tilted her head. "Perhaps you should make the best of things here," she suggested. "The ditch is not so bad. There is water to float in and mud to keep you cool." The Rocket scoffed. "Make the best of things? I am far too important for that. I deserve to be admired, not to wallow in a ditch." The Duck shook her head and waddled on.
The Rocket launched into a long, self-pitying speech. "No one understands my sensitivity," he moaned. "I am a delicate soul, too fine for this coarse world. I have been cast aside, forgotten, left to rot in a ditch. But I shall not be defeated. One day, I will explode with such brilliance that everyone will remember the Remarkable Rocket." The Duck, who had heard enough, yawned and waddled away. The Rocket did not notice. He continued to talk to himself, convinced of his own importance. "The world fails to appreciate me," he declared. "But I shall prove them all wrong." And so he sat in the ditch, alone and still certain of his greatness.
Two boys came to the ditch to collect firewood. They gathered sticks and dry branches, and then one of them spotted the Rocket. "Look at this!" he cried. "A firework! We can use it to light our fire." The other boy agreed, and they picked up the Rocket. The Rocket was thrilled. "At last!" he thought. "I am about to achieve my destiny. These boys recognize my worth and are helping me to shine." He imagined the crowd cheering as he soared into the sky. The boys carried him to their fire pit, unaware of his grand delusions. The Rocket could hardly contain his excitement. "This is the moment I have been waiting for!" he exclaimed, though the boys did not understand his words.
The boys tossed the Rocket into the fire. The flames licked at his paper casing, and with a loud bang, he exploded. But it was daytime, and the bright sun outshone his brief flash. No one noticed. The boys were busy tending their fire, and the wedding guests were far away. Yet the Rocket, in his final moment, believed he had created a magnificent sensation. "What a glorious explosion!" he thought. "The whole world must be watching!" And so he died happy in his delusion, convinced that he had finally achieved the greatness he so desperately craved.
The wedding fireworks went on without the Remarkable Rocket. The sky was filled with color and light, and everyone cheered. But the Rocket was forgotten. His tale, however, teaches us a lesson: true worth is not found in boasting or in demanding attention. It is found in humble service and in doing one's duty quietly. The Remarkable Rocket, who thought himself so grand, was ultimately a cautionary tale. And so, as the last firework faded, the kingdom celebrated, and the Rocket's folly was remembered only as a reminder to value actions over words.
