请将“In the first phase of criticism, the Revolution still remained a revolution. It was simply explained differently, arising either from the frustration of efforts at social advance on the part of non-noble officials, or from a political 
crisis. The attack on the content of the thesis of social-structural preconditions - and therefore necessities - initially opened the way to a renascence of political history. This opportunity was used by François Furet and Denis Richet in their history of the Revolution published in 1965, a work that for several decades reclaimed for ‘event history' the place that structural history had taken. Whilst the radicalisation of the Revolution was still explained in this work in terms of ‘circumstances' (a much-used topos), i.e. the war that the Revolution's opponents waged against the French Republic both externally and from within, Furet radicalised the political content of his interpretation in later publications. No longer were circonstances permitted this role. For Furet, the peaceful bourgeois revolution of 1789-91 was now the work of an enlightened élite, whilst the Terror offered proof that the nation should never have fallen into the hands of the radicals and the mob. What happened after 1791 was a ‘derailment' of the Revolution, i.e. a departure from the path of peaceful improvement of the world that the nation had properly been prescribed. We can maintain today that though this interpretation led the attack on the social interpretation and also offered the opportunity of marketing scholarly legitimised anecdotal and biographical ‘stories' of the Revolution that had long been banished to the popular sphere, it was not very significant in terms of genuine scholarly debate. It was countered by the far greater influence that Braudel's version of modernisation theory and the entire Annales school exer-cised on the historiography of the Revolution.
It was not Furet's thesis of the ‘derailment of the Revolution', but rather Braudel's interpretative model of long waves, that provided the guiding thread for scholars seeking a way out of the categories of the ‘social interpretation'. The model of long waves lacks any theoretical foundation. It asserts a particular structural effect of long-term mentalities and forms of everyday life, a lesser structural effect of conjunctures of economic and social change, and a comparatively minor effect of events. Influences are established between these levels, but there is as little theoretical explanation of their manner and form as there is for the development at the level on which things alter ‘only slowly'. The great advantage of this interpretative model, however, was that of shifting the Revolution to the topmost, i.e. least important, level, and in this way freeing it of a part of its mythic and emotive ballast. In this way, the longterm changes that had begun before the Revolution and continued after it came into view. Braudel's concept of the continuity of mentalities, moreover, 
also acted as a challenge. Michel Vovelle, for example, was long concerned with the question how the great change was prepared as a possibility in the slow change of life practices such as religious obeisance, and to what extent a breach then occurred that led to people's consciousness being different after the Revolution. He thus showed how the study of mentalities could serve to give the questions posed by the social interpretation a new formulation. In recent years, some students of mentalities have followed his lead, though by no means all.
Others confine themselves to the coarser aspects of slow developments. In this connection belongs the thesis of the fusion of élites, which has pervaded revisionist literature since Alfred Cobban, and has since been radicalised by Guy Chaussinand-Nogaret to the point that a society of notables supposedly arose not after the Revolution, but rather before it. The critique of works whose authors staunchly maintain that feudalism was abolished in France in the night of 4-5 August 1789, has thus been used to drag the French Revolution, which formerly presented an obstacle, back into modernisation theory. In this context, the problem of a theory of the Revolution is reduced to a mere problem of definition: what amount of change is described as a revolution, and what amount is not? (A similar procedure is characteristically applied to the Industrial Revolution.) In this way, the Revolution as ‘event' is banished from the realm of scientific analysis and referred to that of ‘revolutionary catechism', whether of bourgeois-idealist or Marxist provenance. Indeed, if we are to follow modernisation theorists, the transformation of forms of appropriation and production began long before 1789, and capitalism in France did not prevail either in 1789 or 1799. This is also the framework in which René Sédillot maintains, in his account of the Revolution in terms of profit and loss,7 that the only kind of revolution that really counts is the Industrial Revolution, and, in relation to this, the French Revolution was rather an obstruction. This application of bookkeeping to the Revolution - instructive and useful as it may well be in certain details - still operates on that historical residue that survives here and there in French historiography as the ‘birth of the French nation' and of ‘bourgeois society', and whose abolition was made so much harder by the social interpretation. It seems that angry destruction of this residue is needed before such simple questions as that of the actual changes in administrative practice can be raised. The Revolution also used to serve in a sense as a definition of the ancien régime, not just the way in which the peasants were exploited, but also the way in which the king ruled. The immense progress that has been made in recent decades in investigation of the ancien régime is one of the side-effects of the dissolution of the established 'truths' of revolutionary scholarship.
Another such effect is the Marxist debate over historical categories. Since the application of a de-historicised model of 'bourgeois revolution' to the events in France towards the end of the eighteenth century made the errors and weaknesses of such categories unavoidable, the critique of the 'social interpretation' of the French Revolution also offered the opportunity to elabo-rate theoretical concepts for historical-materialist analysis. It is no accident that the clearest critique of the theoretical foundations of the 'social interpre-tation' of the French Revolution has been provided by a Marxist.8
a.	The rise of a revolutionary public
Political events that lead to the collapse of a system of rule never come about without good reason. But reasons alone, no matter how pertinent they may be, cannot explain why, at a certain point in time, many people behave in such a way that the old forms of rule can no longer survive. Historians who are aware of this therefore generally combine analysis of structural preconditions for revolution with narrative. Such depictions of revolution have their convincing effect because in the 'drama of revolution' (Giddens) years and decades are as it were compressed into days and weeks. Events follow on one another blow upon blow, so the impression is given that a dynamic of revolution develops out of them alone. In actual fact, however, all that happens in this way is that the finalistic teleology of an 'intensifying crisis' - retrospective signs of which are always to be found - is replaced by the apparent causality of chronology. The 'straight history' that Betty Behrens recommends for the historiography of revolutions,9 gives no answer as to why time suddenly condenses, and events occur that draw one after the other.
If a revolution actually develops from the ‘good reasons' that underlie it, a specific structure is needed: a revolutionary public. Before a situation arises in which this public claims to serve as the instance by which rule has to be legiti-mised (irrespective of the existing structures of legality), very many people must first have had the courage to act and think in this way. Motivations of this kind are constituted not individually or en famille, but only in a common experience. The drama of a revolution does not come into being simply because people act out with and against one another the interests that they have long already had, but only by some or many of them rising ‘above them-selves' for a short while, i.e. above their former view of the world and their former interests. The question of the structural preconditions for a revolution is thus only incompletely formulated as long as it does not include the question of the preconditions for the rise of a revolutionary public.
This is already to say that even the very course of the revolution does not simply arise from previously existing interests - such as might be deducible for individuals by an analysis of their means (Soboul's view).10 It arises, rather, from behavioural motivations that are constituted in connection with specific forms of the public sphere. If a bourgeois society is to emerge from the form of rule of the ancien régime, this requires abolishing not only the legitimacy of noble privileges, but also that of demands of spontaneous manifestation, in other words, an end to the form of motion of the revolution. In the following section we shall sketch out not the full history of the French Revolution, but only this structural change: the rise, change and abolition of a revolutionary public.
The revolutionary public of summer 1789 was not the culmination of a long-standing criticism of rule that then expanded qualitatively, but rather a result of the fact that there was not that kind of public in France until 1787, at least not as an element that regular forms of ruling practice had been developed to deal with. It goes without saying that the French crown, just like any other generalised power under the ancien régime, had to take into account opposition tendencies and regular resistance. But, from the start of the seventeenth century, this happened increasingly less in forms of an established public. The crown's most important sources of information about the actual state of the country, about popular moods and resistances, were not assemblies, but rather the intendants and parlements. No états généraux had been convened since 1614, and, from the end of the seventeenth century, sessions of the provincial estates came to an end in one pays d'état after another. After the 1720s, there were no longer any official assemblies of the nobility. These were still held only for the clergy, who decided on the level of their don gratuit to the crown, and on these occasions expressed either directly or - as in 1788 after the partial emancipation of the Protestants - by their refusal of the amount of tax demanded, the demands or protests of the senior clergy. Towns, corporations and provinces negotiated their privileges directly and in mutual competition. These competitive relationships to the generalised power, however, did not sum up to a comprehensive critical public.”翻译为中文