一间自己的屋子
A Room of One's Own
4367字
2019-12-22 17:47
62阅读
火星译客

So I disappeared a few more kroner for him and finally showed him how it wasdone. When I left for my walk he was standing in the middle of that real dining roomtrying to snap a coin up the sleeve of his Eton jacket:

所以,我又给他变了几次kroner魔术,最后告诉他如何变这个魔术。我离开房间去散步时,看到他正站在那间豪华餐厅的中间,尝试着把硬币转移到他的伊顿夹克衫袖子上。 

The castle's drive is a good mile long, absolutely straight, nearly level along thecrest of the ridge, and bordered all the way by flowering lindens. They filled the airwith sweetness and dropped sticky liquor onto the gravel sand now and then onto me.It began to drizzle before I had gone a hundred yards. The view down the slope to theright, through the English park with its big spaced oaks and bursts of rhododendronand lawns that ran down to the very edge of the Sea, was dim and romantic.

城堡的车道很长,很笔直,几乎和山脉线平行,两旁的欧锻树守护着大道。欧锻树散发出一股甜味,上面的粘液滴到石子路上,偶尔还滴到我身上。才走了100码,夭就开始下小雨。从斜坡下面向右看,我看到了英式公园里面种了很多橡树,橡树和橡树之间间隔很大,公园里面还有怒放的杜鹃花,草坪一直延伸到海边。此景朦朦胧胧,很是浪漫。

I saw it, or tried to see it, with my mother's eyes. She had lived at the end of thislane, and undoubtedly walked along it sometimes, and stood back respectfully whenthe great folks from the castle passed. And dreamed, maybe. And had friends to whomshe talked about what she'd like t} do and be, and what she'd like to see. MissWeibull's mother, one of the Sverdrups. And then one day she had gone down to thelittle harbor almost corked by its green island, and taken the ferry to Copenhagen, andlike a bewildered animal crowded aboard an immigrant boat, and voyaged to America.There was something that made the women of the castle tighten their mouths andstraighten their backs, and my mother was somehow part of it. And in I come, intothis Old World shenanigan, like Miss Connie Coincidence herself. Incredible, thecountess said. I guess. But not by any means intelligible.

我以我妈妈的眼光,或者尝试用我妈妈的眼光去欣赏这里。她住在这条车道的尽头,也肯定沿着这条车道走过,碰到城堡里面的贵人们从车道上经过,肯定会毕恭毕敬地让道。或许,妈妈在梦里也梦见过这条道路。妈妈也会向她的朋友倾诉她喜欢做的事情和以后想成为什么样的人,想见什么样的风景。想不到韦布尔小姐的妈妈,也是一位斯维德鲁普人。一天,我妈妈走到这个小港口(翠绿的岛挤占了港湾大部分的面积),坐上了去往哥本哈根的轮船,怀着前途未卜的纠结心情上了某艘移民船,到了美国。有一些事儿使城堡中的女人咬紧了牙关,挺直了脊背。其中,也包括我的妈妈。后来,我就来到了这个恶作剧世界。女伯爵说:真是让人难以相信。我猜,远涉重洋的方法并不简单。 

The upper side of the drive is alI one big planting of pines, with lines of sheltertrees between the rows-a fu ure forest as neat as a vegetable garden. Straight ahead through a green hollow and up the church hill. The church was very old. Its doors of built-up planks were grayed and weathered, the grain so raised that it half effaced the carving. Inside the vestibule, hardly bigger than the hall of an ordinary house, was an enormous poor box made from a section of the trunk of an oak. It was four feet across, hopped around with five or six bands of heavy iron, and fitted with an iron lid. Through the lid on each side came an iron hoop as thick as my finger, and in each hoop was a hand-wrought padlock the size of a good-sized lobster. The coin slot was three inches long and a quarter inch wide, suitable for the croppers of giants.

车道的上方是一个很大的松树园,每列松树的中间还种着一排防护林。这个未来大森林,修理得跟蔬菜园一样齐整干净。我沿着这条在谷地中穿行的小路,爬上了教堂所在的小山。除了教堂,是座农舍,位于松树园尽头的一块草坪上。教堂很古老,木门灰白,一看就知道经历了风水日晒,上面的纹理很突出,雕刻图像不再清晰了。前厅还没有一般房子的客厅大,里面放着一个捐款箱,用一部分橡树主干做成。它四英尺宽,绑着五六个重铁,还有一个铁盖。穿过铁盖,每侧有一个铁环,和我的食指一样厚,在每个铁环里面,有个手工挂锁,大小和大号龙虾差不多。硬币槽3英寸长,0. 25英寸宽,大号铜币都可以放进去。 

The thing looked as if it had been made to withstand Viking raiders---too heavy to lift, too strong to smash with battle-axes. As I stood inspecting it, a wispy young man in a black robe and an Elizabethan ruff came into the vestibule from the church. He stopped, surprised: a Danish clergyman who finds anybody in his church these days is bound to be surprised. He spoke to me and I replied. Then there seemed nothing more to say. After a questioning moment he went softly through the door and outside.    

看起来,这东西是用来抵御北欧海盗的突击的—很重不能轻易举起来,很坚硬用战斧也打不碎。就在我站在那里琢磨这东西时,一个清瘦的年轻人从教堂走进前厅来了,他穿着黑色的袍子,戴着伊丽莎白一世时代的飞边。他停下脚步,露出一副吃惊的表情,一个丹麦神职人员这几天能在自己教堂里面碰到任何人都会觉得惊讶的。他对我说了几句话,我回答了几句。然后似乎我俩没有什么可说的了。一阵迟疑后,他慢慢走出去了。 

In a spirit of scientific research I fished out of my pocket the kYOne I had been snapping up my sleeve for the little baron and dropped it into the slot of the poor box. It fell with a dry sound on wood. No giant coppers in there, nothing at all in there, evidently. I wondered how often they took off the manhole cover to collect the loot. I imagined the thin young clergyman in his ruff coming out with foot-long keys on an iron ring, unlocking the massive padlocks one after the other, prying up the ponderous lid, and reaching in to scrape up a button, a couple of Tuborg caps, and-with a shout of triumph---my single krone.

怀着一种科学探究的精神,我从口袋中拿出刚才和小男爵玩耍用的那个krone,把它投进了捐款箱的硬币槽内。我听到了一声落到干燥木头上的声音。显然,里面没有大号铜币,或许里面什么东西也没有。我真想知道他们多久打开一次盒盖,来收取一下里面的钱财。我想象了一个场景:刚才那位穿着飞边衣领衣服的神职人员,带着清瘦的面容,握着一串铁环进来,上面绑着英尺长的钥匙,他挨个儿打开巨型挂锁,边祷告边掀开笨重的盖子,摸索着找到按钮,几个乐堡啤酒瓶盖,并且—在胜利的叫喊中—只看到了我刚投的那枚克朗。 

At least the poor box, armored like Fort Knox, made poverty authentic andtangible, as the Sverdrup cottage did not. It made more plausible the flight of my mother, at an age no greater than that of the wench who now perhaps slept in her room. It said something about meagerness and lack of generosity and feudal limitation, it radiated suspicion in the very act of soliciting alms.

至少装备得像诺克斯堡的捐款箱使贫穷显得很真实,但是斯维德鲁普农舍并没有做到这一点。农舍让我明白在我妈妈和那个少女差不多大的时候,她曾经的抗争。那个少女估计现在还在房间睡觉。农舍叙说了丰富物质的缺乏和封建制度的局限,也显示了对筹集救济金行为的怀疑。

Inside, though, the church said something entirely different. It was small, clean, painted white, the prototype of dozens of little Lutheran churches I have seen in the Middle West except that it was built of stone and that the altar under its grayish lace was more high church. But what took my eye was the ship's models hanging on wires from the ceiling. There must have been a dozen of them, three-maters; trawlers, even one white passenger ship with rows of portholes. Each had a card tacked to it, detailing the shipwreck from which its grateful maker had been saved. Here was none of the mean charity expressed by the poor box. Each one of these lovely things was a prayer of thanksgiving. I was reminded of Karen Blixen's remark that Denmakr was full of retired sea captains growing roses. Maybe poor old Bertelson, headed for the Swedish village of his childhood, had something after all. Whatever it was to me(nothing), this placid island in its landlocked sea was for the makers of these modelsthe ultimate safe place.

从内部来看,教堂叙说着完全不同的东西。教堂很小,很干净,并被漆成白色,是我曾经在中西部见过的很多小型路德教教堂的雏形,不过它用石头建成,灰色蕾丝下的圣坛更具有高教会派的特色。挂在天花板上的船模型吸引了我,估计至少12只,有三桅船,有拖网渔船,甚至还有一个白色的带着几排舷窗的客船。每条船模上都盯着一张卡片,上面记录着每一次海难,而造船主人也曾从这些海难中死里逃生。这不是捐款箱表达的吝音慈善。这每个可爱的小物品都是感恩节的一种祈祷。我想起卡伦.布利克森曾经说过的话:“丹麦有很多退休的老船长,他们都在种玫瑰花。”或许可怜的老贝特尔松,来到童年时代住过的丹麦村庄时,还能看到点类似玫瑰之类的东西。不论对我来说,看到了什么(其实什么也没看见),这个被陆地包围的平静的岛屿是这些模型制作人最终的安全栖身之地。 

Ambiguous church, speaking, simultaneously of deprivation and sanctuary. Its antiphonal voices may well have come from different periods, different ages even, the place seemed so old. As I went around reading the cards on the hanging models, I came to a little bare cell to the right of the front door, with a long horizontal slit in the wall facing the altar, and a little door that opened to the outside. This was the medieval leper chapel, where the afflicted and dying could hear and see the mass without offending the sight of their families and friends. I make a practice of trying to imagine myself into human situations, but when I tried to imagine myself into that ten-by-twelve cell with other noseless, fingerless, suppurating sufferers, and to ponder what consolation I might get from crowding to a crack in the wall to hear somebody in a starched ruff preach God's mercy, I found myself wanting to be out in the air.

神秘的教堂,诉说着贫穷的同时也诉说着圣洁。这种轮流的唱和可能来自不同的时期,甚至是不同的年代,这个地方显得如此古老。我四处走动着阅读挂在模型上的卡片,走到前门右侧的一个空荡荡的小隔间时,看到墙上有一条水平狭缝,正对着祭坛,还有一扇小门向外开着。这就是中世纪时候麻风病患者祈祷的小教堂。在这里,受疾病折磨的以及生命危在旦夕的人可以看到别人,并避免让他的家人和朋友伤心。我尝试让自己置身于一些人的情境中,我想象自己住进了这样的小房间,和别的没有鼻子的、没有指头的、化脓的病人在一起,并思考我趴在墙上的那条缝隙上聆听一个穿着立领飞边的人宣传上帝的恩赐时,我会从人群中得到怎样的慰藉。想到这儿,我想走出去透透气。

So out of the church and down the hill and up again to the linden lane. At its end, a mile away, the ivied front and stepped gables of the castle sat like a barricade-absolute destination, utter terminus, total power: No ambiguity there.

我走出了教堂,下了山,再次来到欧锻树小路。在小路的尽头,一英里之外,回看那边爬满常春藤的教堂前面的墙壁和拾级而上的山墙,觉得像是个专门的屏障—绝对的目的地,最后的终点站,也是绝对的权利。在那里没有丝毫含糊。

The Sverdrup cottage, as I passed it, showed no sign of life, but when I was a couple of hundred yards down the drive; I heard a door close and looked back to see a man come out the gate and turn my way. I went on, not hurrying. The drizzle had stopped, there were ragged clouds dispersing out over the sea beyond the reaches of vivid lawn. The lane steamed.

我走过了斯维德鲁普农舍,这里并没有什么生命的气息。但我沿着车道走了几百码之后,听到了一声关门声,回头看到一个男人走出大门,我转身继续走路,不慌不忙。小雨停了,形状不规则的云在海面上分散开来,到不了颜色鲜亮的草坪那里了。小路上朦朦胧胧。   

The man behind me was walking faster than I was: I could hear his gritting steps on the gravel. Then just inside the iron gates, where the drive looped to circle before the doorway and enclose a medallion of impeccable lawn, I glanced back again, and he motioned with his arm and called to me. "Du!"

我身后的男人比我走得快,我能听到他走在石子路上的脚步声。一会儿,我到达了铁门,车道在这个门前形成环形,围成了项链垂饰状的完美草坪。我在门前回望了一眼,他摆动着 胳膊,冲我打招呼:“Du!” 

I stopped, and he came up-hard eye, hard mouth, bushy sandy eyebrows. Younger than I, vigorous mid-forties, probably, in a corduroy jacket and jodhpurs and an Ascot tie. He looked rne up and down. His contemptuous "Du!" and his arrogant air annoyed me, so I looked ham up and down, too. Even without the resemblance-something about the eyes and the shape of the head-it would have been clear who he was. The wicked brother. I had seen him before plenty of times, without the feudal trappings-a muscular bulldozer, a pusher-around.

我停下,他走上来—锐利的目光,傲慢的口气,浓密的浅棕色眉毛。比我年轻,大约45岁左右,富有活力,上穿灯芯绒夹克,打着爱斯科特输带,下穿马裤。他上上下下地打量着我。他无礼的“Du!”以及傲慢的气息惹怒了我,我也上上下才打量他。虽然没有什么相似度—除了眼睛和脑袋的形状比较相仿—很容易知道他是谁—缺德的哥哥。我已经见过他很多次,不受道德约束—身材强壮的恐吓者,欺凌者。

I hadn't had a racket in my hand since last summer, I hadn't played in even a club tournament in six or seven years. But if I couldn't summon up enough of what used to be there to make Eigil work for his exercise; I would eat three fuzzy new Slazenger tennis balls.

从去年夏天之后,我就没碰过球拍了,上次在俱乐部参加比赛己经是六七年前的事儿了。但如果我证明不了曾经玩过网球,但也可以陪他切磋切磋,我会吃掉三个毛茸茸的史莱辛格网球。

So fifteen minutes after he intercepted me at his castle gate, I was warming upwith him on a damp clay court near the stables; and thinking, Mistake, mistake! I felt old and stiff the balls were heavy, the racket unfamiliar and too big in the handle. There was no whip in my shots, the opposite base line looked fifty yards away. There I sat with my little paws on my chest, waiting to be run over.

他在城堡大门那里拦上我十五分钟后,我就和他在马厩旁边的潮湿的红土网球场做热身运动了,心里想着:过失啊,过失。我感到自己已经是把老骨头了,浑身僵硬,球在手里也变重了,还用不惯手里的拍子,手柄太大了。我发的球没有力度,对面的基础线看着大约50码远。我把我的小手放到我的胸部,等着被打的满地找牙。 

Because ho was no dub. I suspect he was used to beating anybody in Denmark except maybe Torben Ulrik. He hit his forehand with a lot of juice on it, and it came off the damp clay whizzing. When I sent a floater over to his backhand, he wound up and exploded on it, a real old Western-grip broken-arm backhand of a kind I hadn't seen since Wiliner Allison and Johnny Van Ryn were winning the national doubles. It went down the line like a rocket and bruised the fence.

他打球没有什么节奏。我怀疑他除了没有和托本。乌尔里克没有切磋过,己经把丹麦人打了个遍。他的正手击球非常有力度,球会沾着潮湿的红土哩哩地飞过来。为了接他的反手球,我给他发了飘球,他又把球挑起并成功破球,这招算是经典的西方式握拍断臂反手球了,自从威尔默·阿利森和约翰尼·凡·赖恩赢得全国双打冠军之后,我就再也没有见过了。球就像火箭一样冲到线旁边,把球网打的都疼。 

I kept scrambling, knocking them back off the rim and the handle or not getting them back at all. Eigil liked to score off you, he shot for the lines and corners even when warming up. I did get a little warm chasing balls. But little by little something began to came back, I hit a few forehands that felt right, I found that I could at least chip my backhand and control it. And when I went up to try a volley or two, and old Eigil threw me up a lob, I hit that one exactly where I wanted to---into the corner, where Eigil could chase it for a change.

我一度手忙脚乱,回球也只是勉强打到球拍或拍杆,或者甚至都接不住。艾伊尔喜欢从比分上压制对手,即使在我俩热身的时候,他都会把球打向边线和角区。我在追球的时候确实热身了不少。但是一点儿一点儿地,有种力量好像回来了,我打了几把正手球,感觉还不错,接着,我发现我也能打反手短切球并控制好球。我乘胜追击了几把截击球,老艾伊尔给我回了个挑高球,我精准地接上球并打回了我预谋好的地方---角落那里,这样艾伊尔就去球,我就可以扳回一局。

He tried a couple of serves, and I got a look at them. Twist, with a sharp kick to the backhand. A juicehead all the way. So I moved to the left and a little back to give myself room, and he aced rne with a sliced one into the forehand corner. In the odd court I moved up, thinking I' d try taking it on the rise, and he gave me one high on the backhand that I couldn't handle.

他试着发了几次球,我观察了几下。转身,用力反手击球,总是旋转球。A所以,我转战到了左边,稍靠后一些的位置,给我自己留出足够大的空间。他给了我几个爱司球,属于那种打到前半场角落的削球。我在左发球区跑来跑去,心想我得在球飞的不高时候接上它,结果他给发了一个反手高球,我没能接到。 

I lost the game at love, won only one point on my own service, and lost the third game, also at love. Time for the Seventh Cavalry to come riding down the Little Big Horn.

第一回合我零分输了比赛,第二回合发球局得了一分,第三回合也是以零分输掉了比赛。是时候使出浑身解数啦。

Both his forehand and backhand were hot as a firecracker; but it seemed to me he had to hit them close to his body, it seemed to me that, like a lot of topspin players, he might not be able to reach. So I served wide to his forehand and came up, and sure enough, high weak return, easy lay-away volley. I tried the same thing in the odd court, and same result. Right then I began to to think I could take him if I didn't burst a blood vessel with all that running. Tf I stayed back, his ground strokes would murder me. But he was used to hitting them deep; I didn't think he could consistently put them at my feet as I came up, and if he didn't get them at my feet they came over high, begging to be swatted. And I must say that when he fed me one of those shoulder-high returns, it was a pleasure to see him strain and lunge, or go smoking off in the wrong direction when he anticipated wrong.

他的正手球和反手球像鞭炮一样有力迅速,但好像他必须在距离身体近的地方才能碰到球,如果他碰到了发上旋球的运动员,他可能接不住。所以,我发完头顶上方球后,接着上网,果然,对方回了高球,软绵无力。我接着凌空抽射,干净利落。我在左发球区,故技重施,再次得分。来到右发球区,我想要是减少跑动带来的体能消耗,我应该能拿下他。如果我保持在后场,他的击落地球会把我灭掉。但他习惯把球打得很深,我认为我向前走时,他不会每次都把球打到我脚边;如果球没到我脚边,反而来的比较高,那就等着我接球了。我必须说:他给我的那些肩膀高度的球时,看到他那么拼命吃力,或者因为错判方向而站错位、来回跑着喘着气的样子,我还是很开心的。

I wasn't able to break him back, and he took the first set of 6-3. By the time I stepped up to the line to serve the first game of the second set I had a blister forming at the base of my thumb, I was soaked with sweat, and my feet in Eigil's too big sneakers were red hot. But I was damned well going to take him, and I did. We went with service through the fifth game, and then I broke him with a net cord shot and a sliced backhand down the line--God, I loved myself. Then all I had to do was hold service and I had him 6-4.

我没能扳回他,他以6-3的成绩在第一轮胜出。第二场的第一球由我来发,我走到发球线地方,发现我大拇指根部已经起了大水疮,汗水直流,放在艾伊尔特别大号的鞋子里的脚己经火热。但我必须打败他,而且我做到了。我们交换发球局,一直打到第五回合,我以一个擦网好球和反手直线削球打到他的场地,打败了他—感谢上帝啊,我好佩服我自己,现在我要做的就是力保发球局,果然,我以6-4赢了他。

Enough. Quit -with honor. I had been running on the sides of my feet for ten games. I went straight to the grass at the side of the court and sat down and took off one shoe and sock. A big flap of skin was peeled off the ball of the foot, with red meat exposed underneath. "What is it?" Eigil was saying, smacking the top of the net with his racket. "What is it?" Eigil was saying, smacking the top of the net with his racket. "We can't stop now, a set apiece!"

够了。现在停止比赛我还能留点颜面。我己经穿着不合脚的鞋打了十个回合了。我径直走到球场旁边的草地上坐下,脱掉一只鞋子和一只袜子。我的大脚趾球上掉了一大块儿皮,剩下一层带血丝的肉。“怎么了?”艾伊尔问,用球拍打了一下网顶,“我们不能现在停啊,这才各赢了一盘。”

"I'll have to default," I said, and held up my scalped foot. You never saw such disappointment. He was raging with it, like a high school quarterback whose- coach won't send him in in the last two minutes to pull out th,e game. Of course he had won, since I couldn't continue: But the score was dead even, and he had had to run his tongue out. I was willing to settle for that. I flopped on my back on the lawn, tasting brass, my lungs burning, my heart pounding, and my feet on fire--and if the truth were told, thankful-to my feet for getting me out of more.

 “我必须下场了,”我说,举起了我刚在比赛中饱受折磨的脚。你猜不到他有多失望。他很生气,就像一个高中的四分卫,在比赛结束前的最后两分钟,教练没让他上场那样。当然,他赢了,因为我不能继续参与战斗了。但我俩分数持平了,他必须收回他赛前说的话。我很乐意接受这个结果。我筋疲力尽,一下子倒在草坪上,嘴里一股铜的味道,感受肺的燃烧,心的乱跳,脚像是放在火上燃烧—说实话,多亏我的脚,我才有借口提前喊结束。

Eigil took two towels off the net post, yanked one around his neck, and came over and dropped one to me. Oddly, his disappoint was over. He was elated, exhilarated by combat, full of chivalry and sportsmanship. His face was red and happy know; you're too modest by half,”he said, panting. "You really are a tennisplayer."

 艾伊尔从网柱上拿下来两条毛巾,其中一条随手搭在了自己的脖子上,走过来,扔给了我一条。奇怪的是,他完全没有了刚才失望的表情。他兴高采烈,彬彬有礼,颇具相互友爱的体育精神。他满面红光,兴致勃勃,喘着气说:“你太自谦了。你的确是个网球运动员。”

I think he meant it. I was almost sorry to remind him that we were leaving in themorning, and that even if we weren't, I wouldn't be able to play on those feet for atleast week. There we sat, pouring sweat and rehashing shots, a couple of locker-roomjocks. I have to admit that I've always enjoyed the company of jocks more than thatof the literary intellectuals and hyperthyroid geniuses among whom, unhappy one, Iearned my living. Also, I hadn't had any company but that of women since we landedin Denmark, more than six weeks ago: I found myself half hiking the bugger. Quiteplainly he was delighted with me.

我觉得他真想这样。我抱歉地告诉他,我们明天早上就离开了;而且,就算不离开,我的脚成了这样,估计最多能打一周的球。我们坐着,淌着汗,回味着刚才打的几个球,又说起了一些狂热运动迷的事儿。说实话,相比于我靠着养家糊口的知识分子朋友圈和神经兴奋的天才圈,我更喜欢和运动迷一起待着,前者并不能给我后者能给我的快乐。而且,自从两个月前我和夫人来到丹麦,陪伴我们的都是女人,我发现,自己有点喜欢这家伙了。很明显,他也很享受与我的相处。

After we showered he found me some Band-Aids to patch my feet. Then nothingwould do but I must see the estate. I said that my wife; whom I had left at two o'clock,would wonder what had happened to me. Promptly he called the castle and toldsomebody that Mr. AIlston would be in around seven.

洗完澡之后,他给我找了几片邦迪创可贴,处理了一下我脚上的伤口。之后就没什么事儿可作了,我想看看庄园。我告诉他,我和夫人两点分开的,现在她肯定在担心是不是我出了什么事儿。他立即打电话给城堡的一个人,告诉他:奥尔斯顿先生大约七点回去。

Me feelings were mixed. My mind's kept wandering to the bottle of scotch in mysuitcase-I knew that Ruth would expect to hold a note-comparing session over itbefore dinner. Instead, here I was hobnobbing with the hobgoblin. I wondered wherehe would go for dinner, since we were pre-empting his castle. Lonely service in thelibrary, with smoking jacket, brandy, and cigar? A tray in the kitchen? To the stable toeat with the horses? To Bregninge Inn for Kaldt bond and beer? A good old-fashionedDracula picnic in some local graveyard?

我心情很复杂。我心里一直想的是我行李箱里的那瓶苏格兰威士忌---我知道,露丝希望在晚饭前能伴着这点儿酒和女伯爵聊会儿天。但是,我却在和一个陌生男子鬼混。我想既然我们提前占领了他的城堡,他会去哪里吃饭呢?独自一人在图书馆么,穿着便服,喝着白兰地,吸着雪茄?到厨房?还是去马厩里和马一起吃?去布赖宁厄农舍来点Koldt bord和啤酒?还是去一片墓地来场老式的德拉库拉野餐? 

It seemed to me he was being pretty good-natured in the face of his sister'snon-fraternization policy. I enjoyed talking to him. He had been around-England,where he was educated, and Italy, some, and France and Germany a good deal, andthe United States once, with an agricultural mission. He remembered Decorah, Iowa,for some reason. He knew a lot of people and had read books and knew what went on.I had to admit that once he got past his impulse to throw me out as a trespasser he hadbeen good company.

对我来说,虽然他妹妹对他不怎么友好,但他却养成了敦厚老实的性格。我喜欢和他交谈。他在英国留过学,去过意大利几次,经常去法国和德国,跟着农业出访团去过一次美国。他对艾奥瓦州迪科拉市的印象比较深刻。他认识很多人,读过不少书,知道当今世界的动态。 我必须承认,自从他没有一时冲动把我视为非法入侵者赶出去,他就一直是个很好的伙伴。

See the estate? All right, why not? He said it was the most scientifically runestate in Denmark, perhaps in the world. The very compulsiveness of his brag mademe curious. And I supposed that he was the one who had got Miss Weibull pregnant,but who she was, and what she was doing in the castle, and why the countess was soimplacable against him for what was, in emancipated Denmark, surely no mortalsin-those were things a man might find out.

要看看庄园么?好啊,为什么不去看看呢?他说这是丹麦,也可能是在世界范围内,运转最科学的庄园。他的这番吹嘘让我很好奇。我猜他是让韦布尔小姐挺着大肚子的那个男人,但韦布尔小姐究竟是谁,她在城堡里做什么;在解放之后的丹麦,女伯爵对这个男人怀有这么大的敌意,肯定不是因为他犯了原罪---这些都是我想弄明白的。

Okay, let's go. How would you say that in Danish? Having fallen into thisparticular sea, I found myself without the linguistic wherewithal. Without a Danishword I climbed into the Volkswagen parked outside the stables, and we toured thefarm.

好吧,我和他一起出去逛逛也不错。这句话用丹麦语,怎么说来着?我掉进这片海之后,很后悔之前没好好学习丹麦语。不会说一句丹麦话的我,爬进了停在马厩外面的一辆大众汽车,开始游览农场。

It isn't a farm, it's an economy In an hour and a half of whizzing around an areaabout the size of Delaware, he showed me wheat fields, beet fields, truck gardens,three different varieties of hybrid corn he's experimenting with, and a battery ofgreenhouses. Also pine plantings, cherry orchards, apply orchards, game coverts, andpastures. Also pigpens, cow stables, henhouses, pheasant and grouse hatcheries, andkennels full of German short-haired pointers and English setters. Also a sawmill,smokehouse, dairy, cheese factory, and refrigerated fruit warehouse. There are twoother villages besides Bregninge on the estate, and he owns the port and its facilities;for all I know, he may have a private merchant fleet. And he is no raw materialproducer only. Everything he grows, he processes, except the cherries, which areshipped to Amager to be made into Cherry Heering, and the sugar beets, which go, Ithink he said, to Kiel.

确切说,这不是农场;这是经济体。我们用一个半小时围着像塔拉华州大小的区域兜了一圈,他领着我参观了小麦田地,甜菜田地,商品菜园,三个不同种类的杂交麦试验田,一排温室作物;还有松园,樱桃园,苹果园,狩猎用的从林,还有养牲畜用的牧场;还有猪圈,牛棚,鸡笼,野鸡蛋和鹅蛋孵化场,充满了德国短毛猎犬和英国塞特猎狗的狗舍;还有一家锯木厂,(熏制食品的)烟熏室,乳制品场,奶酪场,冷藏水果仓库。在这个庄园,除了布赖宁厄,还有两个村庄,他拥有这个港口以及上面的一切设施;据我所知,他可能有一个专门的商人团队。而且,除了樱桃要运到阿玛岛做成喜龄樱桃酒,甜菜要运到基尔,他会对他种植的其余所有作物进行加工。 

I heard a good deal about confiscatory taxes and a government that lay in waituntil a landowner died and then came down on the heirs. I gathered that things hadshrunk sharply when his father died in the 1930x. But he had a bit left. At the hour wewent around, there was hardly a working soul in sight. He had everything mechanized,even automated. The peasants who used to work on the place must all be up in Copenhagen on welfare (my mother got out just in time).

我听他讲了很多征税的事儿,政府一直坐享其成,土地主去世之后,就来坑害继承人。我了解到,他爸爸在20世纪30年代去世之后,家产被征收了一大半。不过他父亲依然给他留下了一些遗产。在我们围着庄园逛的那一个小时,几乎看不到一个工人。艾伊尔使大部分工作都机械化,甚至是自动化了。之前在这里工作的农民现在肯定都去哥本哈根靠着政府救济金过日子了(我妈妈离开的正是时候)。

Crops grow by blueprint. The pigs come off the belt line within a pound of theirweight. While the milking machines relieve them of their day's production, the cowscan contemplate on the stanchions by their heads the charts that reveal their intake ingrain and ensilage and their output in milk and butterfat. No contented cows there.Stakhanovized cows. No tickee, no laundly. Any cow that doesn't keep up herstatistics is schnitzel.

农作物种植都按照规划来,有了牛奶机,奶牛们不必每天都得产奶,它们盯着柱子上的表格,上面写着它们吃过的谷物量和饲料量(草或其他作物作的饲料)还有牛奶和乳脂的产量。在那儿没有自我满足的牛,都是具有斯达汉诺夫精神的牛。任何一只没有保持自己数据的牛都都会被做成炸牛排。

Everything clean, nothing smelly, nothing wasted. The straw that most Danishfarmers burn in their fields, Eigil bales and uses for fuel to heat his greenhouses,which produce the year round. Now I know where those hard little tomatoes comefrom, and those incessant cucumbers. He is proud of the hay-burning furnace, whichhe designed himself.

一切都很干净,没有臭味,也没有浪费。大部分丹麦农民选择烧掉的秸秆,艾伊尔把它们捆起来留作燃料,为温室供热,能烧一年。现在,我知道小西红柿和四季不断的黄瓜是怎么来的了。他自己设计了烧千草的炉子,对此他感到很骄傲。

Without half trying, he seemed to have worked himself into a rage. I said mildlythat I knew nothing about his father, or next to nothing, but had no reason to think hewasn't exactly what Eigil said he was. Nevertheless, as an unsuccessful father myself,I almost resented so much filial loyalty. Would Curtis have defended rne if someonehad questioned my intelligence or integrity? I doubted it. But then I wasn't the DoctorFaustus of anything, either.

他没有克制自己,似乎进入了愤怒的状态。我轻轻地说,我对他的父亲知之甚少,但相信他父亲就像他刚才说的那样好。同时,我作为一名不合格的父亲,很憎恨“孝顺”这个字眼。如果有人质疑我的智慧或正直,柯蒂斯会为我辩护么?这我真不敢保证啊,不过,我也不是任何领域的伟大的浮士德博士。

"All those rhododendrons you saw in the park are his hybrids," Eigil said. "Halfthe roses---did you get taken into the rose garden out beyond the ballroom terrace?Those pointers in the kennels are desired all over the world-that's the forest strainanywhere. We grow and ship two varieties of apples he developed. So it goes, all overthe estate. He made things, new things. He improved what he found. People talk aboutMendel. My father looked through windows that Mendel didn't even know werethere."

“你在公园看到的杜鹃花都是杂交杜鹃花。”艾伊尔说,“一半的玫瑰---有人带你去过舞厅露台外面的玫瑰花园么?狗舍里面的猎犬是世界各地的抢手货---它是目前最好的品种。我们种植并对外运输我爸爸培育出来的两种苹果。整个庄园都弥漫着我爸爸的创造力。他创造事物,全新的事物,他还改良他发现的所有东西。人们都在谈论孟德尔。我爸爸看向窗外的时候,孟德尔都不知道哪儿有扇窗。

We were rolling softly along a dirt road between scrub woods and a pasturefenced with woven wire. From the woods, pheasants and grouse and what I took to bechukars watched us without flying. The pasture on the other side was humped withdozens of feeding bares as big as dogs. Everything was as Eigil said-natureimproved, cultivated as carefully as his bacon hogs and pine plantings. Even the scrubwoods were carefully cultivated scrub woods, the perfect game covert. And then aswe rolled slowly and he talked about his father, with his eyes straight ahead and hisjaw bunched up, he stepped suddenly on the brake. A buck, or stag I suppose they would call him, had just stepped out onto the bank of a ditch a hundred yards ahead.

我们沿着一条肮脏的小路慢慢行驶着,一旁是灌木从,一旁是铁栅栏围着的牧场。灌木从这边,野鸡,松鸡,和我觉得是石鸡的动物没有飞走,而且气定神闲地望着我们。另一侧的牧场上,有很多家兔,长得跟狗一般大。就像艾伊尔所说,一切都是依据自然改良并精心培育,比如培根用猪和松园,连灌木丛都经过培育,是完美的狩猎场。之后,我们又慢慢向前行驶,他说起了他爸爸,眼睛直视,下领抬起,突然他一阵急刹车。原来,前面100码的地方,一头驯鹿,或者当地叫雄鹿,刚从沟里爬到路面。

"Khhhhh!" Eigil said in his throat. "There's that bastard with the bad horns!" he cramped the Volkswagen around in two quick moves, and we were accelerating out the way we had come in.

“哈哈,”他低声说,“这只带着硬角的家伙。”汽车抖动了两下,接着快速驶离了这里。

As soon as we turned behind a screen of trees, he put his foot to the floor. We zipped around behind the stables and pulled up in a cloud of gravel next to the room where we had showered. Eigil jumped out, leaving the door open and the motor running. In a minute he came running back with a little Mannlicher in his hand. "Hold this!" he said, and showed it at me. Qff again, like Crazy Horse on his way to intercept Ouster.

我们一来到树林后面,他就把脚放到汽车内的地板上。我们在马厩后面快速地行驶,最后在一片砂砾上停车,旁边就是我们几小时前洗澡的那个房子。艾伊尔跳下车,没熄火,也没关车门。才过了一分钟、他就跑回来了,手里拿着小曼立夏猎枪。他把东西塞给我说:“拿着这个!”我俩再次出发,就像一匹疯狂的野马想要拦截卡斯铲。 

Of course the stag was gone when we got there, and five minutes of careful prowling failed to flush him. I was glad. I am not much on killing things, and I didn't need a lesson in selective breeding.

当然,我们到那儿时,牧鹿己经跑远了。我们用了五分钟时间去搜寻猎物,它还是没有现身。我心里偷着乐,因为我不想杀害生灵,我也不需要上“选择育种”这一课。 

"I ought to get back,”I said as soon as we got to the car again一一me walking on the sides of my feet, my hips, knees, and shoulder already stiff: The trees on that lane were fuzzy with sprouts clear to the ground, like the legs of some chickens, and peasants had harvested these sprouts  for faggots year after year, leaving an extraordinary stubble of cut sprouts out of which grew new green ones. Never waste anything. Make faggots of your prunings, and make a business of making faggots.

我俩再次回到车里,这次我抓紧时机说“我得回去了。”我点着脚尖走路,我的屁股,膝盖,肩膀都僵硬了。道路旁边的树木都长出了嫩芽,在路面上清晰可见,就像小鸡的细腿。农人们年复一年地把这些嫩芽搜集起来当做火柴,留下好多暂时性残茬。新芽又可以从这些残茬里面长出来,还真是物尽其用啊。

Eigil looked at the sun, bedding down in high clouds over the Baltic. "It's not quite six-thirty. There's time to show you the museum. Are you interested in archaeology?"

艾伊尔看了一眼太阳,太阳正在波罗的海上空的云朵中寻找栖身之处。“还没到6:30还有时间领你去博物馆逛逛。你对考古学感兴趣么?” 

I thought I'd better be, as the quickest way of closing out the tour. "I don't know anything about the archaeology of Denmark, but sure, I'd like to see it, if you have time. Just a quick look, and then I'll have to go and dress."

我觉得我最好尽快结束这段旅途,“我对丹麦考古学一无所知,不过,要是你有时间,我倒是愿意参观一下博物馆。咱们可以走马观花地溜达一下,我得赶紧回去换换衣服。”   

Going back, we circled down to the shore, through the village, and up the hill to the lane of lindens. As we passed the Sverdrup cottage, the girl I had seen was picking flowers in the yard. Eigil lifted his hand in casual greeting from the wheel, and she gawped after us as we headed toward the castle. I had an impulse to tell hi my mother had lived in that house. Then I remembered that when I first saw him he had been coming out of it. Why not, he owned it. Visit from the landlord. Nevertheless, there was Miss Weibull,. upon whom I suspected him of having exercised a few droits de seigneur, and she lived in that house, or once did. I decided that instead of revealing my family history I would praise the lane of lindens. Naturally they一 turned out to have been planted by Eigil's father.

我们往回走了一段路,沿着海岸线行驶,穿过村子,爬上小坡,来到锻树小道。经过农舍时,我看见之前碰到过的小女孩在院子里采摘花朵。艾伊尔松开方向盘,举起手冲那女孩儿打了个招呼,看起来两人很熟。那女孩一直望着我们走向城堡。我突然有股冲动,想告诉他我妈妈曾在那间房子里生活过,不过我立即又想起来,我第一次碰见他时,他就是从这间房子里走出来的。没有什么可奇怪的,房子是他的啊,他作为房东,逛逛房子,也没什么不合理。并且,韦布尔小姐应该也住过这儿,起码在这儿住过一晚,我怀疑他在动用droits dese seigneur。我决定不去揭露我的家庭史,而去赞扬这些锻树。显然,它们的确是艾伊尔的父亲种下的。

The museum was a long half-timbered cottage beyond the stables, three rooms full of the kind of staff that quickly gives me museum feet and strabismus: tools, weapons, utensils, skulls, bones, a complete record of all the Danish horizons from the antler-and-bone culture to the Iron Age. Seems that Danish places whose names end in -inge are invariably old, and therefore often rich archaeologically. Bregninge, according to Eigil, has been continuously inhabited since at least 4000 B.C. "All Danes," he said with a grin. "There's no evidence of any immigrations or invasions. These people raided other tribes, but they don't seem to have been raided. My tribe, except for an occasional captive woman, an essentially unmixed strain for six thousand years. You can imagine what that meant to my father.”

博物馆在马厩上面,是一个狭长的半木质农舍,有三间堆满文物的房子让我迅速猜测到了博物馆的全貌:工具、武器、器皿、骼镂、骨头,这些物品完整记录了丹麦从鹿角一鹿骨文化到铁器时代的所有变迁。似乎,以“宁厄夕,结尾的丹麦地名都十分古老,因此这些地方都具备丰富的考古学文物。据艾伊尔所说,从公元4000年前开始,就一直有人居住在布赖宁厄。“都是丹麦人,”他咧着嘴笑了笑,说:“没有证据表明这里曾经有过移民或者入侵者。这些人的确袭击过其他部落,但未曾有部落袭击过他们。6000年来,除了偶尔有女人被捕之外,我的部落一直过着安稳的生活。您可以想象一下,那对我父亲意味着什么。” 

I let it be assumed that I could. Still wearing his sidelong smile, Eigil took hold of a cloth that covered something the shape of a big bird cage. "Here, let me introduce my first known ancestor," he said, and pulled off the cloth. Inside was this mummy his peat diggers had found. Its hands and feet were tied, and it had been strangled with a thong. The museum in Copenhagen thinks it was an executed prisoner of war or criminal, but Eigil thinks it was a sacrifice to keep the fields fertile. "What's more logical?" he says. "This was hundreds of years before the invention of_ manure. In any case, I don't want him to be a prisoner of war, because then he couldn't have been my ancestor. Don't you think we look alike?"

我尽可能地去假装,我能知道那对他父亲意味着什么。他面带微笑,斜眼看了我一下,抓住一块布,布下面仿佛盖了一个大鸟笼,“来吧,我给你介绍一下我们部落公认的第一位祖先。”他边说,边扯开布。哦,原来他的泥炭挖掘机发现的就是这只木乃伊。它的手脚捆绑着,还由一条皮带固定着。哥本哈根博物馆的工作人员认为它是在战争中或罪行中得以处决的囚犯,但艾伊尔觉得它是为了祈求庄稼丰收而上供的祭品。“哪种说法更符合逻辑呢?”他问道,“从那之后,过了几百年,才发明了肥料。无论怎么说,我都不愿意相信他是战争的俘虏,因为这样的话,他就不会是我的祖先了。你不觉得,我俩长得很像么?” 

Simpering, he posed beside the bell jar, and by God, he did look a little like the mummy I wondered if perhaps I did, but I didn't want to ask. Because that thing was more-likely to be my ancestor than his. My folks undoubtedly belonged to the class that got strangled, his to the class that did the strangling.

他扭捏地笑了一下,在钟形罩旁边摆了一个姿势。上帝啊,他的确有点像这个木乃伊。我也很想知道,我是不是和这木乃伊也长得有点像,但我不想开口问,因为据我观察,那东西长得更像我一些。毋庸置疑,我所在的部落应该是被欺凌的一方,他所在的部落是实施欺凌的一方。

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