雙語(yǔ)散文|巴 金——木匠老陳
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木匠老陳
生活的經(jīng)驗(yàn)固然會(huì)叫人忘記許多事情。但是有些記憶經(jīng)過(guò)了多少時(shí)間的磨洗也不會(huì)消滅。故鄉(xiāng)里那些房屋，那些街道至今還印在我的腦子里。我還記得我每天到學(xué)堂去總要走過(guò)的木匠老陳的鋪?zhàn)印?br /> 木匠老陳那時(shí)不過(guò)四十歲光景，臉長(zhǎng)得像驢子臉，左眼下面有塊傷疤，嘴唇上略有幾根胡須。大家都說(shuō)他的相貌丑，但是同時(shí)人人稱(chēng)贊他的脾氣好。
他平日在店里。但是他也常常到相熟的公館里去做活，或者做包工，或者做零工。我們家里需要木匠的時(shí)候，總是去找他。我就在這時(shí)候認(rèn)識(shí)他。他在我們家里做活，我只要有空，就跑去看他工作。
我那時(shí)注意的，并不是他本人，倒是他的那些工具：什么有輪齒的鋸子啦，有兩個(gè)耳朵的刨子啦，會(huì)旋轉(zhuǎn)的鉆子啦，像圖畫(huà)里板斧一般的斧子啦。這些奇怪的東西我以前全沒(méi)有看見(jiàn)過(guò)。一塊粗糙的木頭經(jīng)過(guò)了斧子劈，鋸子鋸，刨子刨，就變成了一方或者一條光滑整齊的木板，再經(jīng)過(guò)鉆子、鑿子等等工具以后，又變成了各種各樣的東西；像美麗的窗格，鏤花的壁板等等細(xì)致的物件，都是這樣制成的。
老陳和他的徒弟的工作使我的眼界寬了不少。那時(shí)我還在家里讀書(shū)，祖父聘請(qǐng)了一位前清的老秀才來(lái)管教我們。老秀才不知道教授的方法，他只教我們認(rèn)一些字，呆板地讀一些書(shū)。此外他就把我們關(guān)在書(shū)房里，端端正正地坐在凳子上，讓時(shí)間白白地過(guò)去。過(guò)慣了這種單調(diào)的生活以后，無(wú)怪乎我特別喜歡老陳了。
老陳常常彎著腰，拿了尺子和墨線(xiàn)盒在木板上面畫(huà)什么東西。我便安靜地站在旁邊專(zhuān)心地望著，連眼珠也不轉(zhuǎn)一下。他畫(huà)好了墨線(xiàn)，便拿起鋸子或者鑿子來(lái)。我有時(shí)候覺(jué)得有些地方很奇怪，不明白，就問(wèn)他，他很和氣地對(duì)我一一說(shuō)明。他的態(tài)度比那個(gè)老秀才的好得多。
家里的人看見(jiàn)我對(duì)老陳的工作感到這么大的興趣，并不來(lái)干涉我，卻嘲笑地喚我做老陳的徒弟，父親甚至開(kāi)玩笑地說(shuō)要把我送到老陳那里學(xué)做木匠。但這些嘲笑都是好意的，父親的確喜歡我。因此有一個(gè)時(shí)候我居然相信父親真有這樣的想法，而且我對(duì)老陳說(shuō)過(guò)要跟他學(xué)做木匠的話(huà)。
“你要學(xué)做木匠？真笑話(huà)！有錢(qián)的少爺應(yīng)該讀書(shū)，將來(lái)好做官！窮人的小孩才學(xué)做木匠，”老陳聽(tīng)見(jiàn)我的話(huà)，馬上就笑起來(lái)。
“為什么不該學(xué)做木匠？做官有什么好？修房子，做家具，才有趣?。∥易瞿窘?，我要給自己修房子，爬到上面去，爬得高高的，”我看見(jiàn)他不相信我的話(huà)，把它只當(dāng)做小孩子的胡說(shuō)，我有些生氣，就起勁地爭(zhēng)論道。
“爬得高，會(huì)跌下來(lái)，”老陳隨口說(shuō)了這一句，他的笑容漸漸地收起來(lái)了。
“跌下來(lái)，你騙我！我就沒(méi)有見(jiàn)過(guò)木匠跌下來(lái)。”
老陳看我一眼，依舊溫和地說(shuō)：“做木匠修房子，常常拿自己性命來(lái)拚。一個(gè)不當(dāng)心在上面滑了腳，跌下來(lái)，不跌成肉醬，也會(huì)得一輩子的殘疾。”他說(shuō)到這里就埋下頭，用力在木板上推他的刨子，木板查查地響著，一卷一卷的刨花接連落在地上。他過(guò)了半晌又加了一句：“我爹就是這樣子跌死的。”
我不相信他的話(huà)。一個(gè)人會(huì)活活地跌死！我沒(méi)有看見(jiàn)過(guò)，也沒(méi)有聽(tīng)見(jiàn)人說(shuō)過(guò)。既然他父親做木匠跌死了，為什么他現(xiàn)在還做木匠呢？我簡(jiǎn)直想不通。
“你騙我，我不信！那么你為什么還要做木匠？難道你就不怕死！”
“做木匠的人這樣多，不見(jiàn)得個(gè)個(gè)都遭橫死，我學(xué)的是這行手藝，不靠它吃飯又靠什么？”他苦惱地說(shuō)。然后他抬起頭來(lái)看我，他的眼角上嵌得有淚珠。他哭了！
我看見(jiàn)他流眼淚，不知道要怎么辦才好，就跑開(kāi)了。
不久祖父生病死了，我也進(jìn)了學(xué)堂，不再受那個(gè)老秀才的管束了。祖父死后木匠老陳不曾到我們家里來(lái)過(guò)。但是我每天到學(xué)堂去都要經(jīng)過(guò)他那個(gè)小小的鋪?zhàn)印?br /> 有時(shí)候他在店里招呼我；有時(shí)候他不在，只有一兩個(gè)徒弟在那里釘?shù)首踊蛘咧圃靹e的物件。他的店起初還能夠維持下去，但是不久省城里發(fā)生了巷戰(zhàn)，一連打了三天，然后那兩位軍閥因?yàn)閯e人的調(diào)解又握手言歡了。老陳的店在這個(gè)時(shí)期遭到“丘八”的光顧，他的一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)積蓄都給搶光了，只剩下一個(gè)空鋪?zhàn)?。這以后他雖然勉強(qiáng)開(kāi)店，生意卻很蕭條。我常?？匆?jiàn)他哭喪著臉在店里做工。他的精神頹喪，但是他仍然不停手地做活。我聽(tīng)說(shuō)他晚上時(shí)常到小酒館里喝酒。
又過(guò)了幾個(gè)月他的店終于關(guān)了門(mén)。我也就看不見(jiàn)他的蹤跡了。有人說(shuō)他去吃糧當(dāng)了兵，有人說(shuō)他到外縣謀生去了。然而有一天我在街上碰見(jiàn)了他。他手里提著一個(gè)籃子，里面裝了幾件木匠用的工具。
“老陳，你還在省城！人家說(shuō)你吃糧去了！”我快活地大聲叫起來(lái)。
“我只會(huì)做木匠，我就只會(huì)做木匠！一個(gè)人應(yīng)該安分守己，”他搖搖頭微微笑道，他的笑容里帶了一點(diǎn)悲哀。他沒(méi)有什么大改變，只是人瘦了些，臉黑了些，衣服臟了些。
“少爺，你好好讀書(shū)。你將來(lái)做了官，我來(lái)給你修房子，”他繼續(xù)含笑說(shuō)。
我抓住他的袖子，再也說(shuō)不出一句話(huà)來(lái)。他告辭走了。他還告訴我他在他從前一個(gè)徒弟的店里幫忙。這個(gè)徒弟如今發(fā)達(dá)了，他卻在那里做一個(gè)匠人。
以后我就沒(méi)有再看見(jiàn)老陳。我雖然喜歡他，但是過(guò)了不幾天我又把他忘記了。等到公館里的轎夫告訴我一個(gè)消息的時(shí)候，我才記起他來(lái)。
那個(gè)轎夫報(bào)告的是什么消息呢？
他告訴我：老陳同別的木匠一起在南門(mén)一家大公館里修樓房，工程快要完了，但是不曉得怎樣，老陳竟然從樓上跌下來(lái)，跌死了。
在那么多的木匠里面，偏偏是他跟著他父親落進(jìn)了橫死的命運(yùn)圈里。這似乎是偶然，似乎又不是偶然?？傊?，一個(gè)安分守己的人就這樣地消滅了。
Carpenter Lao Chen
Lots of things are apt to fade from memory as one's life experiences accumulate. But some memories will withstand the wear and tear of time.Those houses and streets in my home town still remain engraved on my mind. I still can recall how every day on my way to school I would invariably walk past Carpenter Lao Chen's shop.
Carpenter Lao Chen was then only about forty years old, with a longish face like that of a donkey, a scar under his left eye, and a wispy moustache on his upper lip. People said he looked ugly, yet they praised him for his good temper.
He usually worked in his own shop. But from time to time he was employed by some rich people he knew well to work at their residences, either as a hired hand on contract or as an odd jobber. Whenever my family needed a carpenter, he was always the man we wanted. That was how I got to know him. While he was in our home, I would come out to watch him work in my spare time.
What attracted my attention, however, was not the man himself, but the tools he used, such as the saw with toothed blade, the plane with two ear-like handles, the revolving drill, the hatchet that looked like the broad axe in drawings — things entirely strange to me. A piece of coarse wood, after being processed with the hatchet, saw and plane, would become pieces of smooth and tidy wood, square or rectangular in shape. After further treatment with the chisel, drill, etc., they would end up as various kinds of exquisite articles, such as beautiful window lattices, ornamental engravings on wooden partitions.
The work which Lao Chen and his apprentices did was a real eye-opener to me. I was then studying at home under the tutorship of an old scholar of the Qing Dynasty whom my grandfather had engaged. The old scholar knew nothing about teaching methods. All he did was make me learn some Chinese characters and do some dull reading. Apart from that, he had me cooped up in my study and sit bolt upright doing nothing while time was slipping through my fingers. Because of this monotonous life, it was no wonder that I developed a particular liking for Carpenter Lao Chen.
He was often bent over drawing something on a plank with a ruler and an ink marker. And I would stand by and watch quietly and intently, my eyes riveted on him. After making the line with the ink marker, he would pick up the saw or the chisel. Sometimes, when something puzzled me, I would ask him questions out of curiosity, and he would explain patiently everything in detail. He was much more agreeable than the old scholar.
My folks, however, showed no sign of disapproval when they found me so much interested in Lao Chen's work, but only teasingly called me an apprentice of his. Father even said jokingly that he was going to apprentice me to Lao Chen. All that was the well-meaning remarks of an affectionate father. Once I even believed that father had meant what he said, and I even told Lao Chen that that was exactly what I had in mind.
You want to learn carpentry? said Lao Chen immediately with a smile "No kidding! A wealthy young master like you should study and grow up to be a government official! Only poor people's kids learn carpentry."
Somewhat annoyed by the way he shrugged off my words as childish nonsense, I argued heatedly, "Why not become a carpenter? What's the good of being a government official? It's great fun to build houses and make furniture. If I'm a carpenter, I'll climb high up, very high up, to build a house for myself."
You may fall down if you climb high, said he casually, the smile on his face fading away.
Fall down? You're fooling me! I've never seen a carpenter fall down.
Shooting a glance at me, he continued with undiminished patience,
A carpenter often has to risk his own life in building a house. One careless slip, and you fall down. You'll be disabled for life, if not reduced to a pulp. Thereupon, he bent his head and forcefully pushed his plane over a plank, the shavings of which fell continuously onto the ground amidst the screeching sound. Then he added after a moment's silence,
That's how my father died.
I just could not bring myself to believe it. How could a man die like that? I had never seen it happen, nor had I ever heard of it. If his father had died of an accident as a carpenter, why should Lao Chen himself still be a carpenter now? I just couldn't figure it out.
You're fooling me. I don't believe you! How come you're still a carpenter? Can you be unafraid of death?
Lots of guys are in this trade, he went on gloomily. "It doesn't follow that everybody meets with such a violent death. Carpentry is my trade. What else could I rely on to make a living?" He looked up at me, some teardrops visible from the corners of his eyes. He was crying!
I was at a loss when I saw him in tears, so I went away quietly.
Not long afterwards, my grandpa fell ill and died, and I was enrolled in a school, no longer under the control of the old scholar. Lao Chen never came again to work in our household after grandpa's death. But every day on my way to school, I would pass by his small shop.
Sometimes he beckoned me from his shop. Sometimes he was absent, leaving a couple of his apprentices there hammering nails into a stool or making some other articles. At first, he could somehow scrape along. Soon street fighting broke out in the provincial capital, lasting three days until the dispute between two warlords was settled through the mediation of a third party. In the course of the fighting, soldiers looted Lao Chen's shop until it was empty of everything. After that, nevertheless, he still managed to keep his shop open though business was bad. I often saw him working in his shop with a saddened look on his face. Dejected as he was, he worked on as usual. I heard that he often went drinking at a small wine shop in the evening.
Several months later, his shop closed down for good and I lost all trace of him. Some said he had gone soldiering, others said he had gone to another county to seek a livelihood. One day, however, I ran into him in the street. He was carrying a basket filled with some carpenter's tools.
Lao Chen, I yelled out in joy, "you're still here in the provincial capital! People say you've joined up!"
I'm good at nothing else but carpentry, I'm good at nothing else but carpentry! One should be content with one's lot. He shook his head, wearing a faint smile with a touch of sorrow. There was not much change in him except that he was thinner, his face darker and his clothes dirtier.
Young master, he continued smilingly, "you should study hard. Let me build a house for you someday when you're a government official."
I took hold of his sleeve, unable to utter a word. He said goodbye to me and went away. He had told me that he was now working at the shop of a former apprentice of his. The apprentice was doing quite well while Lao Chen was now his hired hand.
Thenceforth I never saw Lao Chen again. Much as I liked him, I soon forgot him. It was not until the sedan-chair bearer of a rich household passed on to me the news that I remembered him again.
What news did the sedan-chair bearer tell me?
He told me: Lao Chen, together with other carpenters, was building a mansion for a rich household at the southern city gate. When it was nearing completion, it suddenly came to pass that he fell off the building and died.
Why did Lao Chen, of all carpenters, die such a violent death like his father? All that seems accidental, and also seems predestined. In short, an honest man has thus passed out of existence.
巴金（1904—2005）的《木匠老陳》寫(xiě)于1934年，后編入他的散文集《生之懺悔》。這是一篇傳記體的回憶性文章，熱情洋溢，充滿(mǎn)濃郁的抒情色彩，對(duì)舊時(shí)淳樸的勞動(dòng)大眾的苦難深表同情。
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