讓美國人摸不著頭腦的英式英語

讓美國人摸不著頭腦的英式英語

LONDON — It can be as insignificant as the slide from “oops” to “whoops.” It can be as blunt as the shift from “restroom” to “toilet.” It can be no more than the adaptation from “good job” to “well done.” But whatever precisely it is, the adjustment from American to English is momentous. A new nation was born in 1776, and a new language was born with it.

倫敦——從英語到美語的轉(zhuǎn)變，有時是“哎呦”的說法從“oops”變成“whoops”一樣不起眼，有時是把“廁所”從“restroom”變成 “toilet”一樣的天壤之別。它也可以像把“干得漂亮”的說法從“good job”變成“well done”一樣，只是改編一下。但無論具體是怎樣，這都是一個重大轉(zhuǎn)變。一個新的國家在1776年誕生之際，一門新的語言也隨之誕生了。

Having become an American, I returned to England a few years back after an absence of 31 years. I expected to speak the language. I was wrong. Somewhere in the interim the letter aitch had become “haitch,” with the result that spelling out my family name (surname) was painful. You had somehow morphed into the ghastly reflexive “yourself,” as in, “And for yourself?”

幾年前，已經(jīng)成為美國人的我回到了闊別31年的英國。我打算說英國話來著。但我錯了。在我離開的31年間，字母H在某些地方的發(fā)音已經(jīng)從“哎吃” (aitch)變成了“嗨吃”(haitch)，致使我很難讀出自己的姓氏。“You”(你)不知怎地已經(jīng)演變成了可怕的反身詞“yourself”(你自己)。例如，“And for yourself?”(那你自己呢?)

Virgin Media, and Sir Richard Branson’s monumental ego, had taken a stranglehold on the country and its lexicon, with the result that a cheesy, simpering, faux-friendly, off-key, faintly Essex hail-well-met affectation (Never just plain “Hello,” always “Well, hellooo there”) was near universal. I have found that it never stops grating. In the toilet of a Virgin train, an announcement in that voice asks you not to flush tampons, old phones — or your dreams. You get the picture.

維珍媒體(Virgin Media)和理查德·布蘭森(Richard Branson)爵士的極端自負深深影響這這個國家和它的詞匯表。其結(jié)果是，給人以低級庸俗、裝瘋賣傻、虛情假意、荒腔走板之感，還帶著點埃塞克斯 (Essex)式自來熟的矯揉造作(絕不會平鋪直敘地說出“Hello”[你好]，而是把“嘿，Well, hellooo there[你好哦]掛在嘴上)幾乎無所不在。我發(fā)現(xiàn)，這種讓人火大的矯揉造作永遠不會有所收斂。在維珍公司運營的火車上，衛(wèi)生間里的提示語以同樣的腔調(diào)要求你別把衛(wèi)生棉條、舊手機——或者你的夢——扔進馬桶沖走。你懂的。

I was at an event the other day. An English woman was presenting a documentary movie on the Arab Spring. She talked about the incredible commitment and courage of the young people behind the uprisings. “When I look at them, I am in awe,” she said, “I realize most of us are such weeds. Yes, we really are weeds.”

前不久我參加了一個活動。有位英國女性在介紹一部關(guān)于阿拉伯之春(Arab Spring)的紀(jì)錄片。她談到了這場運動背后的年輕人所表現(xiàn)出的無以倫比的決心和勇氣。“看著他們的時候，我感到敬畏，”她說，“我意識到我們中的大多數(shù)人都這么像weeds(雜草)，沒錯，我們真是雜草。”

Unease was palpable in the cinema (movie theater) as the extent of amassed weediness was absorbed by the audience. There was a little awkward shuffling. Weed? I found my mind turning, as it often does, to what the best translation might be. Wimp came to mind. Wuss did, too, for a little more intensity. We’re just a bunch of wimps and wusses.

當(dāng)這么多“雜草”鉆進觀眾耳朵的時候，電影院里彌漫著明顯的不安。人們尷尬地動來動去。雜草?像往常一樣，我的腦筋轉(zhuǎn)了起來，琢磨著把它翻譯成什么才最恰當(dāng)。我想到了“懦弱無用之人”(wimp)。稍微一使勁兒，又想到了“膽小鬼”(wuss)。我們就是一群懦弱無用之人和膽小鬼。

Cheers to that. Cheers to anything, in fact. It’s a toast, it’s a farewell. It’s whatever you want it to be. Yeah, cheers, mate.

為此cheers(歡呼)吧。事實上，cheers可以用在任何地方。它是祝酒辭，也是告別辭。它是你想讓它成為的一切。噢，cheers(再見)，朋友。

Catch you later, dude.

回頭見，伙計。

People in England are nice. They’re lovely, just lovely, another of those words that’s everywhere in a different way. See you tomorrow, then. “Lovely.”

英國人是友善的。他們很lovely(可愛)，“lovely”一詞同樣有著五花八門的用法。那么，明天見。“Lovely。”(好啊)

My kids, New York raised, started on me from the moment we touched down. “Baggage REclaim?” they asked at Heathrow. “Are you serious?” Well, um, um (a little British throat-clearing to get them used to the new scene), yeah. So, “Baggage Claim” had become “Baggage Reclaim,” on what grounds it was not clear. There you had it. Oops to whoops. And then, driving into London and passing a petrol (gas) station, the incredulity of my son: “They don’t actually spell tires with a ‘y,’ do they?”

我的孩子們以前都生活在紐約。從我們乘坐的飛機降落在英國國土上開始，他們就一直在責(zé)問我。“Baggage REclaim?”他們在希思羅機場(Heathrow)問道，“你是認(rèn)真的嗎?”這個，嗯，嗯(以英國人的方式稍微清清嗓子，好幫他們適應(yīng)新狀況)，是的。這么說，出于某些尚不清楚的原因，“Baggage Claim”(行李領(lǐng)取處)變成了“Baggage Reclaim”(行李收回處)了。情況就是如此。Oops不也變成whoops了嘛。接著，在車子駛?cè)雮惗亍⒔?jīng)過一個加油站時，我兒子疑惑地問道：“他們拼寫‘輪胎’(tire)的時候不用‘y’吧?(即tyre。——譯注)”

They do, darling, they do. And they say “maths” not “math.” And they “pop” a signature onto a document, and they “pop” a dish in the oven, and they “pop” in — you can scarcely move for all the popping going on. They have things called anoraks and plimsolls — you don’t want to know. They “get cracking,” in a soundless way, and they actually have a dessert called “Spotted Dick” (often served with golden syrup and custard); and cheese comes after dessert. And they don’t have mail boxes, sweetheart, those red things are letter boxes (into which you pop your mail, if you ever did that, which you don’t, being on WhatsApp).

他們用的，親愛的，確實是用的。而且，他們把“math”(數(shù)學(xué))說成“maths”。他們用“在文件上pop一個簽名”，“把菜pop進爐子” 里，他們上你家串門叫“pop in”——“pop”無處不在，簡直不給人喘息的機會。他們還有叫做“anorak”(皮猴)和“plimsoll”(懶漢鞋)的東西——不解釋了，你是不會感興趣的。他們把不聲不響地“行動起來”叫做“get cracking”。而且，他們居然有一種甜點叫做Spotted Dick(通常配有金黃色的糖漿和奶黃);他們吃完甜點再吃奶酪。他們是沒有“mail box”(郵箱)的，甜心，那些紅色的東西叫“letter box”(信匣子)(你可以把信“pop”進去，但是現(xiàn)在既然有了WhatsApp，你大概已經(jīng)不這么做了)。

Idioms are equally impenetrable. The culture wars, of course, have come to Britain. Even Black Friday shopping mania has come to Britain, with or without Thanksgiving. There’s endless flux, but differences endure. You read things like, “White-van man does not eat braised endive.” White-van man would be the English guy who votes for the right-wing U.K. Independence Party and who hates all the immigrant-loving urban eggheads driving Volvos. Rough translation: “Joe the plumber does not eat broccoli.” That’s very rough. As you will have gathered, the ocean is immense. Globalization has its limits.

英國的成語同樣令人費解。文化戰(zhàn)爭當(dāng)然已經(jīng)蔓延到英國。即使是黑色星期五的購物狂潮也波及這里，無論他們過不過感恩節(jié)。文化源源不斷地涌入，但永遠存在差別。你會讀到，“瘋狂駕駛白貨車的男子不吃燉菊苣。”駕駛白貨車的男子(white-van man)指的是那些人：他們投票支持右翼的英國獨立黨(U.K. Independence Party)，并且憎恨所有開沃爾沃的熱愛移民的城市蛋頭(egghead，美語俚語，對知識分子的蔑稱。——譯注)。粗略翻譯過來就成了：水管工喬 (Joe)不吃西蘭花。這確實非常粗略。你可能也看出來了，簡直是差了十萬八千里。全球化也有無能為力的時候。

Cell is mobile. Two weeks is a fortnight. Silverware is cutlery. And the flat that costs two million quid (three million bucks) with no lift is an overpriced London apartment with no elevator.

在這里，人們把“cell”(手機)叫做“mobile”(移動電話)。兩周叫做“fortnight”(十四天)。200萬quid(英鎊)一套(也就是300萬buck[美元])、沒有“lift”的“flat”，其實就是一套定價過高的、沒有“elevator”(電梯)的 “apartment”(公寓)。

Don’t exaggerate, you will tell me. In a way you’d be right. London glides into New York more easily than into Birmingham. We get each other. But this is less than half the trans-Atlantic story. Language demands a different character of us on either side of the pond. That’s profound.

你可能會說，別夸張了。從某種意義上講，你說的可能沒錯。倫敦與紐約的差距比它與伯明翰的差距要小。我們能理解對方。但這只是冰山一角。語言要求我們在大洋兩岸展示出不同的性格。這是一種深刻的區(qū)別。

I guess that for me, if there’s one word on which the differences hinge, it would be “sure.” In England, I think of it in terms of prudence, as in, “Are you really sure?” In America, it’s the beautiful, give-it-a-whirl, up-for-anything embrace of the unknown.

我想，對于我來說，如果有一個詞最能體現(xiàn)美語和英語的區(qū)別，那就是“sure”。在英國，我認(rèn)為是它代表著謹(jǐn)慎，比如，“Are you really sure?”(你真的確定嗎)但在美國，它則代表著一個積極熱情、大膽嘗試，愿意擁抱未知的態(tài)度。