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雙語·月亮與六便士 第二十三章

所屬教程:譯林版·月亮與六便士

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2022年04月22日

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I saw Strickland not infrequently, and now and then played chess with him. He was of uncertain temper.Sometimes he would sit silent and abstracted, taking no notice of anyone;and at others, when he was in a good humour, he would talk in his own halting way.He never said a clever thing, but he had a vein of brutal sarcasm which was not ineffective, and he always said exactly what he thought.He was indifferent to the susceptibilities of others, and when he wounded them was amused.He was constantly offending Dirk Stroeve so bitterly that he flung away, vowing he would never speak to him again;but there was a solid force in Strickland that attracted the fat Dutchman against his will, so that he came back, fawning like a clumsy dog, though he knew that his only greeting would be the blow he dreaded.

I do not know why Strickland put up with me. Our relations were peculiar.One day he asked me to lend him ffty francs.

“I wouldn't dream of it,”I replied.

“Why not?”

“It wouldn't amuse me.”

“I'm frightfully hard up, you know.”

“I don't care.”

“You don't care if I starve?”

“Why on earth should I?”I asked in my turn.

He looked at me for a minute or two, pulling his untidy beard. I smiled at him.

“What are you amused at?”he said, with a gleam of anger in his eyes.

“You're so simple. You recognize no obligations.No one is under any obligation to you.”

“Wouldn't it make you uncomfortable if I went and hanged myself because I'd been turned out of my room as I couldn't pay the rent?”

“Not a bit.”

He chuckled.

“You're bragging. If I really did you'd be overwhelmed with remorse.”

“Try it, and we'll see,”I retorted.

A smile fickered in his eyes, and he stirred his absinthe in silence.

“Would you like to play chess?”I asked.

“I don't mind.”

We set up the pieces, and when the board was ready he considered it with a comfortable eye. There is a sense of satisfaction in looking at your men all ready for the fray.

“Did you really think I'd lend you money?”I asked.

“I didn't see why you shouldn't.”

“You surprise me.”

“Why?”

“It's disappointing to fnd that at heart you are sentimental. I should have liked you better if you hadn't made that ingenuous appeal to my sympathies.”

“I should have despised you if you'd been moved by it,”he answered.

“That's better,”I laughed.

We began to play. We were both absorbed in the game.When it was fnished I said to him:

“Look here, if you're hard up, let me see your pictures. If there's anything I like I'll buy it.”

“Go to hell,”he answered.

He got up and was about to go away. I stopped him.

“You haven't paid for your absinthe,”I said, smiling.

He cursed me, fung down the money, and left.

I did not see him for several days after that, but one evening, when I was sitting in the café,reading a paper, he came up and sat beside me.

“You haven't hanged yourself after all,”I remarked.

“No. I've got a commission.I'm painting the portrait of a retired plumber for two hundred francs.”5

“How did you manage that?”

“The woman where I get my bread recommended me. He'd told her he was looking out for someone to paint him.I've got to give her twenty francs.”

“What's he like?”

“Splendid. He's got a great red face like a leg of mutton, and on his right cheek there's an enormous mole with long hairs growing out of it.”

Strickland was in a good humour, and when Dirk Stroeve came up and sat down with us he attacked him with ferocious banter. He showed a skill I should never have credited him with in fnding the places where the unhappy Dutchman was most sensitive.Strickland employed not the rapier of sarcasm but the bludgeon of invective.The attack was so unprovoked that Stroeve, taken unawares, was defenceless.He reminded you of a frightened sheep running aimlessly hither and thither.He was startled and amazed.At last the tears ran from his eyes.And the worst of it was that, though you hated Strickland, and the exhibition was horrible, it was impossible not to laugh.Dirk Stroeve was one of those unlucky persons whose most sincere emotions are ridiculous.

But after all when I look back upon that winter in Paris, my pleasantest recollection is of Dirk Stroeve. There was something very charming in his little household.He and his wife made a picture which the imagination gratefully dwelt upon, and the simplicity of his love for her had a deliberate grace.He remained absurd, but the sincerity of his passion excited one's sympathy.I could understand how his wife must feel for him, and I was glad that her affection was so tender.If she had any sense of humour, it must amuse her that he should place her on a pedestal and worship her with such an honest idolatry, but even while she laughed she must have been pleased and touched.He was the constant lover, and though she grew old, losing her rounded lines and her fair comeliness, to him she would certainly never alter.To him she would always be the loveliest woman in the world.There was a pleasing grace in the orderliness of their lives.They had but the studio, a bedroom, and a tiny kitchen.Mrs.Stroeve did all the housework herself;and while Dirk painted bad pictures, she went marketing, cooked the luncheon, sewed, occupied herself like a busy ant all the day;and in the evening sat in the studio, sewing again, while Dirk played music which I am sure was far beyond her comprehension.He played with taste, but with more feeling than was always justifed, and into his music poured all his honest, sentimental, exuberant soul.

Their life in its own way was an idyl, and it managed to achieve a singular beauty. The absurdity that clung to everything connected with Dirk Stroeve gave it a curious note, like an unresolved discord, but made it somehow more modern, more human;like a rough joke thrown into a serious scene, it heightened the poignancy which all beauty has.

我經(jīng)??梢砸姷剿固乩锟颂m,而且還時不時地跟他一起下棋。這家伙的脾氣變化無常。有時坐在那里,安靜而又茫然,目中無人;有時興致來了,他會用自己特有的結(jié)結(jié)巴巴的方式跟人聊天。他雖然說不出機智詼諧的話來,但幾分蠻不講理的諷刺挖苦倒也效果明顯,而且總是怎么想的就怎么說,不打半分折扣。他毫不顧忌別人的感受,而且以刺傷別人的感情為樂。他不斷刻薄地打擊迪爾柯·斯特羅伊夫,惹得斯特羅伊夫怒氣沖沖地甩手而去,發(fā)誓再也不跟他說話了。但是在斯特里克蘭身上好像有種堅實的力量,吸引著這個肥胖的荷蘭人屢屢打破他的誓言,最后又乖乖回來了,像只笨狗一樣搖尾乞憐,縱然他知道迎接他的唯一問候就是當(dāng)頭一棒。

我不知道為什么斯特里克蘭倒能容得下我,我們之間的關(guān)系很特殊。有一天他讓我借給他五十法郎。

“這真是讓我連做夢也沒想到的事?!蔽一貞?yīng)道。

“為什么沒想到?”

“這叫我有點不爽?!?/p>

“我快揭不開鍋了。你知道?!?/p>

“我不在乎?!?/p>

“如果我快餓死了,你也不在乎?”

“我干嗎要在乎?”我反問道。

他盯著我看了有一兩分鐘,一面揪著他亂蓬蓬的胡須。我笑著看著他。

“有什么好笑的?”他說,眼睛里有點冒火。

“你可太單純了。既然你眼里沒責(zé)任和義務(wù),自然也沒人有責(zé)任和義務(wù)幫你?!?/p>

“我要是付不起房租,被趕了出來,走投無路去上吊,你看著心里不會不舒服嗎?”

“一點兒也不會?!?/p>

他咯咯笑了起來。

“你就吹吧,要是我真的上了吊,你會后悔一輩子的?!?/p>

“那就試試,我們走著瞧。”我反擊道。

他的目光中露出一絲微笑,默默地攪和著他的苦艾酒。

“你想下棋嗎?”我問道。

“我不反對。”

我們擺好棋子,棋盤就緒后,他用舒心的目光打量了一下棋盤。對于好下棋的人來說,當(dāng)你看到兵馬已經(jīng)就位,擺開一副廝殺的架勢,一種滿足感總會油然而生。

“你當(dāng)真認(rèn)為我會借給你錢嗎?”我問道。

“我看不出你有不借的理由?!?/p>

“你讓我有點吃驚?!?/p>

“為什么?”

“發(fā)現(xiàn)你在內(nèi)心深處還是多愁善感的,這一點讓我有些失望。如果你沒有天真地想喚起我的同情心,我可能會更喜歡你一些。”

“如果你被我打動了,我會瞧不起你的。”他回答道。

“這就好多了?!蔽倚Τ隽寺晛?。

我們開始下棋,注意力都集中在了棋局上。下完一局后,我對他說:

“你聽我說,如果你真的揭不開鍋了,讓我看看你的畫吧,要是有我喜歡的,我可以買上一兩幅?!?/p>

“見你的鬼去吧?!彼卮鸬?。

他站起身來,拔腿要走。我攔住了他。

“你還沒付你的苦艾酒錢呢?!蔽倚χf。

他罵了我一句,扔下錢,扭頭離開了。

從那以后,我有好幾天沒看見他,但有一天傍晚,當(dāng)我正坐在咖啡館里讀報紙的時候,他走過來坐在了我旁邊。

“你最終還是沒上吊呀。”我說道。

“沒有。我找了一個活兒。我正在給一個退休的管子工畫肖像,能掙二百法郎。[49]”

“你是怎么攬到這筆買賣的?”

“我常去買面包那家店的女主人推薦了我。這個人告訴她,他正在找能給他畫肖像的人。我給了她二十法郎作為回報?!?/p>

“是個怎樣的人?”

“沒得挑。他長著一張像羊腿一樣的大紅臉,在他的右臉頰有一顆大大的痣,痣上還長著長長的毛?!?/p>

斯特里克蘭興致很高。當(dāng)?shù)蠣柨隆に固亓_伊夫走進來在我們身邊落座后,他開始用放肆的玩笑話又攻擊起他來。斯特里克蘭有一種技能,當(dāng)然這種技能我是絕不應(yīng)該贊揚的,他總能找到這位不幸的荷蘭人最薄弱的地方加以攻擊。斯特里克蘭不僅把諷刺作為輕劍準(zhǔn)確地一劍封喉,而且用謾罵作為大頭棒劈頭蓋臉一陣痛擊。這打擊來得無緣無故,讓斯特羅伊夫不知所措,完全失去了抵抗的能力,像一只受了驚的小羊,毫無目標(biāo)地東逃西竄。他嚇壞了,也嚇蒙了,最后,眼淚撲簌簌地從眼中滾落下來。最糟的是,雖然你會痛恨斯特里克蘭,覺得這出戲很可怕,但又不可能不哈哈大笑。迪爾柯·斯特羅伊夫是一個倒霉蛋,他發(fā)自肺腑的真摯感情往往讓人覺得滑稽可笑。

然而,盡管如此,當(dāng)我回想起在巴黎的那個冬天時,迪爾柯·斯特羅伊夫給了我最溫暖舒心的回憶。在他的小屋子里,總有一種賓至如歸的親切感,他和他妻子構(gòu)成一幅圖畫,讓我的想象力充滿感激地停留,他對他妻子淳樸的愛有著一種細(xì)膩的優(yōu)雅。他的表現(xiàn)雖然荒謬,但他感情的真摯會激起人們的同情。我能理解他的妻子對他的感受,我也高興地看到她對他的溫柔情感。如果她有幽默感,當(dāng)她看到他把她放到寶座上,作為偶像一樣虔誠地頂禮膜拜的話,她一定會覺得好笑的,但即使她開口大笑,在開心的同時,內(nèi)心也會被感動。他對她的愛永遠(yuǎn)不會改變,雖然有一天她會變老,失去豐滿的身段和秀美的容貌,對他來說,她始終是年輕的模樣,絕不會有絲毫的變化。在他的眼中,她永遠(yuǎn)是世界上最可愛的女人,在他們平凡的生活中,始終有一種令人愉快的優(yōu)雅。他們只有一間畫室、一間臥室和一間小廚房。斯特羅伊夫太太自己承擔(dān)下了所有的家務(wù)活,當(dāng)?shù)蠣柨略诋嬎遣辉趺礃拥漠嫊r,她去市場買菜,做午飯,縫縫補補,像只小蜜蜂一樣在整個白天忙忙碌碌;在晚上,她會坐在畫室里,一邊又拿起了針線活,一邊聽著迪爾柯演奏音樂,雖然我敢肯定,她根本聽不懂這音樂的內(nèi)容。他演奏得很有水平,但總是投入了過多的感情,在他的音樂中,傾注了他所有的誠實、多愁善感和充滿活力的靈魂。

他們的生活是田園詩式的,成功地體現(xiàn)出了獨特的美。雖然與迪爾柯·斯特羅伊夫相聯(lián)系的每件東西都被賦予了滑稽的色彩,但給這種生活增添了奇妙的音符,如同一個不可調(diào)和的變調(diào),反而在某種程度上增加了生活的現(xiàn)代性和人性化。又如同在一個肅穆的場景中冒出了一句粗俗的笑話,加強了所有美中所包含的辛酸與辛辣。

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