《渺小一生》:來到紐約之前，是法學(xué)院時(shí)期

　 He had been only half listening. He was feeling light that day for some reason, but Andy was querulous, and along with a lecture about his leg, he had also endured another about his cutting (too much, Andy thought), and his general appearance (too thin, Andy thought).

他沒怎么認(rèn)真聽，那天他出于某些原因覺得整個(gè)人很輕盈，安迪卻猛發(fā)牢騷，除了針對他那條腿的長篇訓(xùn)話之外，還因?yàn)樗母顐ò驳险J(rèn)為太多了）以及他的整體外貌（安迪認(rèn)為太瘦了）而教訓(xùn)他。

　 He had admired his leg, pivoting it and examining the place where the wound had at last closed over, as Andy talked and talked. “Are you listening to me, Jude?” he had finally demanded.

他當(dāng)時(shí)正在欣賞自己那條腿，轉(zhuǎn)來轉(zhuǎn)去，檢查那個(gè)終于愈合的地方，同時(shí)安迪在旁邊講了又講?！棒玫拢阌性谡J(rèn)真聽嗎？”最后他終于問。

　 “It looks good,” he told Andy, not answering him, but wanting his reassurance. “Doesn’t it?”

“我的腿看起來很好。”他說，沒回答安迪的問題，只想要他的保證，“對不對？”

　 Andy sighed. “It looks—” And then he stopped, and was quiet, and he had looked up, had watched Andy shut his eyes, as if refocusing himself, and then open them again. “It looks good, Jude,” he’d said, quietly. “It does.”

安迪嘆氣：“看起來……”然后停下，沉默片刻。于是他抬頭，看到安迪閉上眼睛，好像要重新對焦，才又睜開來?！翱雌饋砗芎?，裘德。”他輕聲說，“的確很好?！?

　 He had felt, then, a great surge of gratitude, because he knew Andy didn’t think it looked good, would never think it looked good. To Andy, his body was an onslaught of terrors, one against which the two of them had to be constantly attentive. He knew Andy thought he was self-destructive, or delusional, or in denial.

當(dāng)時(shí)他覺得心中涌起滿滿的感激，因?yàn)樗腊驳喜挥X得他的腿看起來很好，永遠(yuǎn)不會。對安迪來說，他的身體隨時(shí)會遭受種種恐怖襲擊，他們兩個(gè)得時(shí)刻集中注意才行。他知道安迪覺得他有自毀傾向，或只會妄想，或總是拒絕。

　 But what Andy never understood about him was this: he was an optimist. Every month, every week, he chose to open his eyes, to live another day in the world. He did it when he was feeling so awful that sometimes the pain seemed to transport him to another state, one in which everything, even the past that he worked so hard to forget, seemed to fade into a gray watercolor wash. He did it when his memories crowded out all other thoughts, when it took real effort, real concentration, to tether himself to his current life, to keep himself from raging with despair and shame. He did it when he was so exhausted of trying, when being awake and alive demanded such energy that he had to lie in bed thinking of reasons to get up and try again, when it would be much easier to go to the bathroom and untape the plastic zipped bag containing his cotton pads and loose razors and alcohol wipes and bandages from its hiding place beneath the sink and simply surrender. Those were the very bad days.

但安迪永遠(yuǎn)不明白的一點(diǎn)是：他是個(gè)樂觀主義者。每個(gè)月、每個(gè)星期，他都選擇睜開眼睛，在這個(gè)世上再活一天。他選擇再活一天，即使他覺得糟糕透頂，有時(shí)那疼痛像是把他放逐到另一個(gè)狀態(tài)中，里頭的一切，包括他努力想要忘記的過去，仿佛全褪成一片灰色的水彩。他選擇再活一天，即使他的種種回憶把其他思緒都擠了出去，他必須很努力、很專心，才能讓自己活在當(dāng)下，盡量不要滿懷絕望與羞愧。他選擇再活一天，即使嘗試讓他筋疲力盡，光是醒來和活著就那么費(fèi)力，因而他必須躺在床上思考要起床再嘗試的理由。他選擇再活一天，即使他有一個(gè)裝了棉墊、刮胡刀片、酒精棉和繃帶的塑料拉鏈袋，用膠帶貼在水槽底下。他只要投降，去把那個(gè)袋子拆下來，一切都會容易太多。那些是非常糟糕的日子。

　 It really had been a mistake, that night before New Year’s Eve when he sat in the bathroom drawing the razor across his arm: he had been half asleep still; he was normally never so careless. But when he realized what he had done, there had been a minute, two minutes—he had counted—when he genuinely hadn’t known what to do, when sitting there, and letting this accident become its own conclusion, seemed easier than making the decision himself, a decision that would ripple past him to include Willem, and Andy, and days and months of consequences.

跨年夜前一天晚上真的是個(gè)錯誤，通常他不會這么不小心。當(dāng)時(shí)他坐在浴室里，用刮胡刀片割手臂。他其實(shí)已經(jīng)半睡著了，但等到他發(fā)現(xiàn)自己做了什么，有一分鐘或兩分鐘（他沒算），他真的完全不知道該怎么辦，只是坐在那里，覺得讓這個(gè)意外自然發(fā)展下去好像比較簡單，免得還要自己做決定，還要把威廉、安迪扯進(jìn)來，還要牽連到往后的幾天、幾個(gè)月。

　 He hadn’t known, finally, what had compelled him to grab his towel from its bar and wrap it around his arm, and then pull himself to his feet and wake Willem up. But with each minute that passed, he moved further and further from the other option, the events unfolding themselves with a speed he couldn’t control, and he longed for that year right after the injury, before he met Andy, when it seemed that everything might be improved upon, and that his future self might be something bright and clean, when he knew so little but had such hope, and faith that his hope might one day be rewarded.

他不知道最后是什么讓他抓下毛巾架上的毛巾，包住自己的手臂，然后掙扎著拖起身子去叫醒威廉。但隨著每一分鐘過去，他離那個(gè)抉擇就越來越遠(yuǎn)，之后種種事件的發(fā)展速度快得讓他無法控制。他好懷念剛被車子撞傷的那一年，在認(rèn)識安迪之前，當(dāng)時(shí)一切似乎都有可能好轉(zhuǎn)，未來的自己可能開朗而干凈。當(dāng)時(shí)他知道的那么少，卻懷著那么大的希望，相信他的希望有朝一日可能會實(shí)現(xiàn)。

　 Before New York there had been law school, and before that, college, and before that, there was Philadelphia, and the long, slow trip across country, and before that, there was Montana, and the boys’ home, and before Montana was the Southwest, and the motel rooms, and the lonely stretches of road and the hours spent in the car. And before that was South Dakota and the monastery. And before that? A father and a mother, presumably. Or, more realistically, simply a man and a woman. And then, probably, just a woman. And then him.

來到紐約之前，是法學(xué)院時(shí)期。在那之前，是大學(xué)時(shí)期。然后在那之前，是費(fèi)城，以及那段漫長、緩慢的橫跨全國之旅。再之前，是蒙大拿州的少年之家，而在蒙大拿之前，是西南部，還有汽車旅館的房間，以及寂寞漫長的公路和待在車上的時(shí)光。再之前，則是南達(dá)科他州和修道院。再之前呢？想必有一個(gè)父親和一個(gè)母親吧。或者更真實(shí)一點(diǎn)，只有一個(gè)男人和一個(gè)女人。然后，大概只有一個(gè)女人。然后是他。

　 It was Brother Peter, who taught him math, and was always reminding him of his good fortune, who told him he’d been found in a garbage can. “Inside a trash bag, stuffed with eggshells and old lettuce and spoiled spaghetti—and you,” Brother Peter said. “In the alley behind the drugstore, you know the one,” even though he didn’t, as he rarely left the monastery.

當(dāng)初是教他數(shù)學(xué)，而且總是要他別忘記自己有多么幸運(yùn)的彼得修士告訴他，他們是在一個(gè)垃圾桶里發(fā)現(xiàn)他的。“就在一個(gè)垃圾袋里，里頭有蛋殼、枯黃的萵苣和爛掉的意大利面條，還有你?！北说眯奘空f，“就在那家藥房后頭的巷子里，你知道的那家?！逼鋵?shí)他不知道，他很少離開修道院。

　 Later, Brother Michael claimed this wasn’t even true. “You weren’t in the trash bin,” he told him. “You were next to the trash bin.” Yes, he conceded, there had been a trash bag, but he had been atop it, not in it, and at any rate, who knew what was in the trash bag itself, and who cared? More likely it was things thrown away from the pharmacy: cardboard and tissues and twist ties and packing chips. “You mustn’t believe everything Brother Peter says,” he reminded him, as he often did, along with: “You mustn’t indulge this tendency to self-mythologize,” as he said whenever he asked for details of how he’d come to live at the monastery. “You came, and you’re here now, and you should concentrate on your future, and not on the past.”

稍后，邁克修士說根本不是這么回事?！澳悴挪皇窃诶袄锩?。”他告訴他，“而是在垃圾桶旁邊?！睕]錯，邁克修士勉強(qiáng)承認(rèn)，的確有個(gè)垃圾袋，但他是在垃圾袋上頭，不是里邊。無論如何，誰曉得垃圾袋里有什么？而且誰在乎？里頭的垃圾更可能是藥房扔掉的：紙盒、衛(wèi)生紙、包裝繩和用來緩沖的小塊塑料泡沫?！氨说眯奘恐v的話，你絕不能全信。”邁克修士常常提醒他，“你絕對不能沉迷于這種自我神話的傾向?！泵炕厮麊柶鹱约簛淼叫薜涝旱姆N種細(xì)節(jié)，他就會這樣說：“你來了，現(xiàn)在住在這里，然后你應(yīng)該專注于你的未來，而不是過去?！?

　 They had created the past for him. He was found naked, said Brother Peter (or in just a diaper, said Brother Michael), but either way, it was assumed he’d been left to, as they said, let nature have its way with him, because it was mid-April and still freezing, and a newborn couldn’t have survived for long in that weather. He must have been there for only a few minutes, however, because he was still almost warm when they found him, and the snow hadn’t yet filled the car’s tire tracks, nor the footprints (sneakers, probably a woman’s size eight) that led to the trash bin and then away from it. He was lucky they had found him (it was fate they had found him). Everything he had—his name, his birthday (itself an estimate), his shelter, his very life—was because of them. He should be grateful (they didn’t expect him to be grateful to them; they expected him to be grateful to God).

他們?yōu)樗麆?chuàng)造出過去。彼得修士說，他被發(fā)現(xiàn)時(shí)光著身子（邁克修士說，只穿了尿布）。無論是哪種，他們都說，應(yīng)該是有人把他丟在那里聽天由命，因?yàn)槟鞘撬脑轮?，天氣非常冷，一個(gè)新生兒在那種天氣里活不了多久?？傊环旁谀侵挥袔追昼?，因?yàn)樗麄儼l(fā)現(xiàn)他的時(shí)候，他身體幾乎還是暖的，雪花還沒填滿旁邊的輪胎印，或是走到垃圾桶旁又離開的那些腳?。ㄇ蛐。蟾攀桥说陌颂栃?。他很幸運(yùn)地被他們發(fā)現(xiàn)（他們會發(fā)現(xiàn)他真是天意）。他所有的一切——他的名字、他的生日（是推估的）、他的住所、他的這條命——都是因?yàn)樗麄兌鴣?。他?yīng)該心存感激（他們并不期望他感激他們，而是期望他感激上帝）。

　 He never knew what they might answer and what they might not. A simple question (Had he been crying when they found him? Had there been a note? Had they looked for whoever had left him?) would be dismissed or unknown or unexplained, but there were declarative answers for the more complicated ones.

他從來不知道他們可能回答什么、不回答什么。面對一個(gè)簡單的問題（他們發(fā)現(xiàn)他時(shí)，他在哭嗎？他身上有紙條嗎？他們找過是誰丟下他的嗎？），他們可能置之不理或說不知道、不解釋；但面對更復(fù)雜的問題，他們卻會有更具敘述性的解釋。

　 “The state couldn’t find anyone to take you.” (Brother Peter, again.) “And so we said we’d keep you here as a temporary measure, and then months turned into years and here you are. The end. Now finish these equations; you’re taking all day.”

“州政府找不到任何人收養(yǎng)你?！保ㄓ质潜说眯奘空f的。）“所以我們決定把你暫時(shí)留在這里，然后幾個(gè)月過去，接下來是幾年，然后就是現(xiàn)在了。故事結(jié)束了?，F(xiàn)在趕緊算完這些方程式，你這樣會拖上一整天?！?

　 But why couldn’t the state find anyone? Theory one (beloved of Brother Peter): There were simply too many unknowns—his ethnicity, his parentage, possible congenital health problems, and on and on. Where had he come from? Nobody knew. None of the local hospitals had recorded a recent live birth that matched his description. And that was worrisome to potential guardians. Theory two (Brother Michael’s): This was a poor town in a poor region in a poor state. No matter the public sympathy—and there had been sympathy, he wasn’t to forget that—it was quite another thing to add an extra child to one’s household, especially when one’s household was already so stretched. Theory three (Father Gabriel’s): He was meant to stay here. It had been God’s will. This was his home. And now he needed to stop asking questions.

但是為什么州政府找不到任何收養(yǎng)人？理論一（這是彼得修士最喜歡的）：實(shí)在有太多未知的狀況，包括他的種族、父母身份、可能有的先天疾病，等等。他是哪里來的？沒有人知道。當(dāng)?shù)蒯t(yī)院都沒有符合他外形的嬰兒出生紀(jì)錄。這一點(diǎn)讓想要收養(yǎng)的人很不放心。理論二（邁克修士的）：這是一個(gè)貧窮的鎮(zhèn)，位于一個(gè)貧窮的州的貧窮區(qū)域。無論一般大眾多么有同情心（大家的確很有同情心，他不會忘記這點(diǎn)），要一戶人家再多收養(yǎng)一個(gè)小孩，就是另一回事了，尤其是一戶已經(jīng)很拮據(jù)的人家。理論三（蓋柏瑞神父的）：他注定要待在這里。這是上帝的旨意。這里就是他的家?，F(xiàn)在他得停止問這些問題了。

　 Then there was a fourth theory, invoked by almost all of them when he misbehaved: He was bad, and had been bad from the beginning. “You must have done something very bad to be left behind like that,” Brother Peter used to tell him after he hit him with the board, rebuking him as he stood there, sobbing his apologies. “Maybe you cried so much they just couldn’t stand it any longer.” And he’d cry harder, fearing that Brother Peter was correct.

然后是第四個(gè)理論，幾乎是他們所有人在他不乖時(shí)一致會講的：他很壞，從出生就壞?！澳阋欢ㄊ亲隽撕軌牡氖虑?，才會像那樣被丟掉。”彼得修士每次用木條打過他之后，總會這么說，看著他站在那啜泣著道歉時(shí)，還會斥責(zé)他，“或許是你哭得太兇，他們再也受不了?！庇谑撬薜酶鼉?，害怕彼得修士說得沒有錯。

　 For all their interest in history, they were collectively irritated when he took interest in his own, as if he was persisting in a particularly tiresome hobby that he wasn’t outgrowing at a fast enough rate. Soon he learned not to ask, or at least not to ask directly, although he was always alert to stray pieces of information that he might learn in unlikely moments, from unlikely sources. With Brother Michael, he read Great Expectations, and managed to misdirect the brother into a long segue about what life for an orphan would be like in nineteenth-century London, a place as foreign to him as Pierre, just a hundred-some miles away. The lesson eventually became a lecture, as he knew it would, but from it he did learn that he, like Pip, would have been given to a relative if there were any to be identified or had. So there were none, clearly. He was alone.

那些修士們都對歷史頗感興趣，但每回他對自己的歷史感興趣時(shí)，他們就會很煩躁，好像他一直長不大，堅(jiān)守著一個(gè)特別無聊幼稚的嗜好，不肯放棄。很快，他學(xué)會不要問，至少不要直接問。不過他總是保持警覺，提醒自己可能在看似不可能的時(shí)機(jī)，通過不同的來源獲得信息。他跟著邁克修士閱讀小說《遠(yuǎn)大前程》時(shí)，設(shè)法引導(dǎo)修士絮絮叨叨地講起一個(gè)孤兒在19世紀(jì)的倫敦生活會是什么樣，對他而言，倫敦陌生得就跟一百多英里外的南達(dá)科他首府皮埃爾市沒兩樣。那堂課最后演變成一場說教。他早料到了，但在那堂課上，他的確學(xué)到自己就像《遠(yuǎn)大前程》里的孤兒皮普，如果查得到他的任何一位親戚，他們就會把他送去給親戚撫養(yǎng)了。顯然他沒有親戚，只有孤身一人。

　 His possessiveness was also a bad habit that needed to be corrected. He couldn’t remember when he first began coveting something that he could own, something that would be his and no one else’s. “Nobody here owns anything,” they told him, but was that really true? He knew that Brother Peter had a tortoiseshell comb, for example, the color of freshly tapped tree sap and just as light-filled, of which he was very proud and with which he brushed his mustache every morning. One day the comb disappeared, and Brother Peter had interrupted his history lesson with Brother Matthew to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, yelling that he had stolen the comb and had better return it if he knew what was good for him. (Father Gabriel later found the comb, which had slipped into the shallow wedge of space between the brother’s desk and the radiator.) And Brother Matthew had an original clothbound edition of The Bostonians, which had a soft-rubbed green spine and which he once held before him so he could look at its cover (“Don’t touch! I said don’t touch!”). Even Brother Luke, his favorite of the brothers, who rarely spoke and never scolded him, had a bird that all the others considered his. Technically, said Brother David, the bird was no one’s, but it had been Brother Luke who had found it and nursed it and fed it and to whom it flew, and so if Luke wanted it, Luke could have it.

他的占有欲也是個(gè)需要矯正的惡習(xí)。他不記得自己什么時(shí)候開始想擁有東西，而且希望只有他有、別人都沒有。“這里沒有人擁有任何東西?！彼麄兏嬖V他，但這是真的嗎？比方說，他知道彼得修士有一把玳瑁梳子，顏色像是樹皮上剛流下來的樹汁，充滿光亮。彼得修士很得意擁有這把梳子，每天早上都要用來梳他的小胡子。有一天那把梳子不見了，彼得修士就闖進(jìn)他跟馬修修士正在上課的房間，抓住他的雙肩搖個(gè)不停，吼著說他偷走了那把梳子，最好趕緊交出來，否則要給他好看（加布里埃爾神父后來找到了那把梳子，原來滑進(jìn)了彼得修士的書桌和暖氣散熱片之間的狹小縫隙里）。馬修修士有一本《波士頓人》，是初版的布面精裝本，有著磨得柔軟的綠色書脊。有回，修士把書舉在他面前讓他看封面（“不要摸！我叫你不要摸！”）。即使是他最喜歡、很少講話也從不罵他的盧克修士，都有一只鳥，是大家公認(rèn)歸他的。按照戴維修士的說法，嚴(yán)格說來，那只鳥不屬于任何人，但當(dāng)初是盧克發(fā)現(xiàn)那只鳥，予以照料、喂食，而且那只鳥總是飛向他，所以如果盧克想要那只鳥，就可以擁有它。

　 Brother Luke was responsible for the monastery’s garden and greenhouse, and in the warm months, he would help him with small tasks. He knew from eavesdropping on the other brothers that Brother Luke had been a rich man before he came to the monastery. But then something happened, or he had done something (it was never clear which), and he either lost most of his money or gave it away, and now he was here, and just as poor as the others, although it was Brother Luke’s money that had paid for the greenhouse, and which helped defray some of the monastery’s operating expenses. Something about the way the other brothers mostly avoided Luke made him think he might be bad, although Brother Luke was never bad, not to him.

盧克修士負(fù)責(zé)照料修道院的花園、菜園，還有玻璃溫室。在溫暖的季節(jié)里，他會幫他做些小差事。他偷聽其他修士的談話得知，盧克修士來到修道院之前很有錢。后來發(fā)生了一些事，或是他做了某件事（誰也不清楚），讓他失去或是送掉了大部分的錢?，F(xiàn)在他來到這里，跟其他人一樣窮，不過盧克修士出錢蓋了玻璃溫室，也幫忙付了一些修道院的營運(yùn)費(fèi)用。從其他修士大半躲著盧克修士的樣子，他覺得盧克修士可能是壞人，盡管他一點(diǎn)都不兇惡，至少沒對他兇過。