紅色電話亭，一個(gè)英國(guó)經(jīng)典文化標(biāo)志的回歸

倫敦——有時(shí)候，放手很難。

For many Britons, that can apply to institutions and objects that represent their country’s past power and glory — stately homes, the monarchy … and red phone boxes.

對(duì)很多英國(guó)人來(lái)說(shuō)，這句話可以用在代表大英帝國(guó)曾經(jīng)的權(quán)力與榮耀的體系和事物上——莊嚴(yán)的建筑、君主制……以及紅色電話亭。

Battered first by the march of technology and lately by the elements in junkyards, the iconic phone boxes are now staging something of a comeback. Repurposed in imaginative ways, many have reappeared on city streets and village greens housing tiny cafes, cellphone repair shops or even defibrillator machines.

先是受到科技進(jìn)步的沖擊，后來(lái)又遭到廢品收購(gòu)場(chǎng)的風(fēng)雨侵蝕，如今，這些標(biāo)志性的電話亭開(kāi)始東山再起。許多以富有想象力的方式被重新利用，重新出現(xiàn)在城市街道和鄉(xiāng)村綠地上，變成小咖啡館、手機(jī)修理店，甚至還能提供心臟除顫器。

The original cast-iron boxes with the domed roofs, called Kiosk No. 2 or K2, first appeared in 1926. They were designed by Giles Gilbert Scott, the architect of the Battersea Power Station in London and Liverpool Cathedral. After becoming a staple on many British streets, the booths began disappearing in the 1980s, with the privatization of British Telecom and the rise of the mobile phone consigning most of them to the scrap heap.

最初的圓頂鑄鐵電話亭被稱為2號(hào)電話亭(Kiosk No. 2)或K2，最早出現(xiàn)在1926年，由設(shè)計(jì)了倫敦巴特西發(fā)電站(Battersea Power Station)和利物浦大教堂(Liverpool Cathedral)的建筑師吉爾斯·吉爾伯特·斯科特(Giles Gilbert Scott)設(shè)計(jì)。在成為英國(guó)許多街道上的標(biāo)志后，這些電話亭在20世紀(jì)80年代開(kāi)始消失。隨著英國(guó)電信業(yè)私有化和移動(dòng)電話的興起，大部分電話亭被送到了廢品場(chǎng)。

About that time, Tony Inglis’s engineering and transport company got the job to remove phone boxes from the streets and auction them off. But he ended up buying hundreds of them himself, with the idea of renovating and selling them.

也差不多在那個(gè)時(shí)候，托尼·英格利斯(Tony Inglis)的工程和運(yùn)輸公司得到了一份工作，把電話亭從街上搬走并拍賣掉。但他最終自己買了幾百臺(tái)，并打算對(duì)它們進(jìn)行翻新和出售。

That might have seemed like a crazy idea back then. “They are so much against the times,” Mr. Inglis said in a recent interview. “They are everything that you wouldn’t do today. They’re big, heavy.”

在當(dāng)時(shí)看來(lái)，這可能是一個(gè)瘋狂的想法。“它們與時(shí)代太格格不入了”，英格利在最近的一次采訪中說(shuō)：“它們代表了你今天不想要的一切。又大又笨重。”

But Mr. Inglis said he had heard the calls to preserve the kiosks and had seen how some of them were listed as historic buildings. He said he had been convinced that he could make a business of restoring them, and he was soon proved right. 但英格利斯說(shuō)，他聽(tīng)到了保護(hù)這些電話亭的呼聲，也看到了其中一些電話亭是如何被列為歷史建筑的。他說(shuō)相信自己能把修復(fù)它們變成一項(xiàng)事業(yè)。不久之后，他被證明是對(duì)的。

Britain has a penchant for conserving its heritage, of course. “We are obsessed with the old, and that’s because our experience of the modern world has been bruising,” Dan Snow, a well-known historian and broadcaster, said. “If you look around at the things that people are very nostalgic for, they are things that remind older people of our imperial and hegemonic past.”

當(dāng)然，英國(guó)一直有保護(hù)其遺產(chǎn)的嗜好。“我們癡迷于舊世界，因?yàn)槲覀冊(cè)诂F(xiàn)代世界一直四處碰壁”。著名歷史學(xué)家、廣播員丹·斯諾(Dan Snow)說(shuō)：“看看那些人們非常懷念的東西，它們會(huì)讓老一輩的人想起我們的帝國(guó)和霸權(quán)時(shí)代。”

That desire also drives much tourism to the country and famous buildings are often high on the lists of visitors. “We’ve got quite pressing economic reasons to celebrate our history,” Mr. Snow said.

這種愿望也把許多游客帶往英國(guó)，而著名的建筑往往是游客旅行清單上的重點(diǎn)。斯諾說(shuō)：“我們有非常緊迫的經(jīng)濟(jì)理由去慶祝我們的歷史。”

As Mr. Inglis and, later, other entrepreneurs, got to work, retooled phone boxes began reappearing in cities and villages as people found new uses for them. Today, they are once again a familiar sight, fulfilling roles that are often just as important for the community as their original purpose.

隨著英格利斯以及后來(lái)的其他企業(yè)家開(kāi)始行動(dòng)，改裝后的電話亭開(kāi)始在城市和鄉(xiāng)村重新出現(xiàn)，人們發(fā)現(xiàn)了它們的新用途。今天，它們又一次成為人們熟悉的景象，在社區(qū)里扮演著與它們最初的使命同樣重要的角色。

In rural areas, where ambulances can take a relatively long time to arrive, the kiosks have taken on a lifesaving role. Local organizations can adopt them from BT for 1 pound, or just over a dollar, and install defibrillators to help in emergencies.

在農(nóng)村地區(qū)，救護(hù)車可能需要較長(zhǎng)的時(shí)間才能到達(dá)，電話亭承擔(dān)起了拯救生命的功能。當(dāng)?shù)亟M織可以用1英鎊的價(jià)格從英國(guó)電信公司購(gòu)買這些設(shè)備，并安裝心臟除顫器來(lái)幫助應(yīng)對(duì)緊急情況。

“The defibrillator is a good idea, because they’re in a prominent place,” Mr. Inglis said. “It’s just there in the back of your mind and the one time you need it you’ll think, ‘There’s one on the village green!’”

“除顫器是個(gè)好主意，因?yàn)樗鼈冊(cè)谝粋€(gè)突出的地方”。英格利斯說(shuō)：“它就在你的腦海里，當(dāng)你需要它的時(shí)候，你會(huì)想到，‘村里的草地上有一個(gè)!’”

Others also looked at the phone boxes and saw business opportunities in those cramped spaces. LoveFone, a company that advocates repairing cellphones rather than disposing of them, opened a mini workshop in a London kiosk in 2016.

其他人也在狹小的電話亭身上看到了商機(jī)。LoveFone是一家提倡修理而不是丟棄手機(jī)的公司，它于2016年在倫敦的一個(gè)電話亭開(kāi)設(shè)了一個(gè)小型工作間。

In addition to being eye-catching, the tiny shops made economic sense, according to Robert Kerr, a co-founder of LoveFone. He said that one of the boxes generated around $13,500 in revenue a month and only cost around $400 to rent.

LoveFone的聯(lián)合創(chuàng)始人羅伯特·克爾(Robert Kerr)表示，除了引人注目之外，這些小商店還具有經(jīng)濟(jì)意義。他說(shuō)，其中一個(gè)電話亭每月的收入約為13500美元(約合86000元人民幣)，租金僅為400美元左右(約合2500元人民幣)。

Mr. Inglis said phone boxes evoked an era when things were built to last and to be useful. Early models, for example, had mirrors and little shelves to rest an umbrella or a parcel on.

英格利斯說(shuō)，電話亭讓人們想起了一個(gè)時(shí)代，在那個(gè)時(shí)代，東西被打造得經(jīng)久耐用。例如，早期的電話亭里有鏡子和用來(lái)放置雨傘或包裹的小架子。

“I think they are an honest construction,” Mr. Inglis said. “I like what they are to people, and I enjoy bringing things back.”

“我認(rèn)為它們是一種實(shí)實(shí)在在的建筑，”英格利斯說(shuō)。“我喜歡它們對(duì)人們來(lái)說(shuō)代表的意義，我喜歡把事物帶回到生活中來(lái)。”