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| 2013/12/27 21:46:33瀏覽138｜回應0｜推薦5 | |
| 【書摘】在斯萬家那邊—貢布雷的風光 (Combray) 5 …c’était toujours à lui qu’il fallait revenir, toujours lui qui dominait tout, sommant les maisons d’un pinacle inattendu, levé avant moi comme le doigt de Dieu dont le corps eût été caché dans la foule des humains sans que je le confondisse pour cela avec elle. Et aujourd’hui encore si, dans une grande ville de province ou dans un quartier de Paris que je connais mal, un passant qui m’a « mis dans mon chemin » me montre au loin, comme un point de repère, tel beffroi d’hôpital, tel clocher de couvent levant la pointe de son bonnet ecclésiastique au coin d’une rue que je dois prendre, pour peu que ma mémoire puisse obscurément lui trouver quelque trait de ressemblance avec la figure chère et disparue, le passant, s’il se retourne pour s’assurer que je ne m’égare pas, peut, à son étonnement, m’apercevoir qui, oublieux de la promenade entreprise ou de la course obligée, reste là, devant le clocher, pendant des heures, immobile, essayant de me souvenir, sentant au fond de moi des terres reconquises sur l’oubli qui s’assèchent et se rebâtissent ; et sans doute alors, et plus anxieusement que tout à l’heure quand je lui demandais de me renseigner, je cherche encore mon chemin, je tourne une rue... mais... c’est dans mon coeur... (Éditions Gallimard, 1987) 總之，無論你在哪裡，你的眼光都得落到鐘樓的身上，它總高踞於一切之上，在一個意想不到的高處把房舍召集到它的跟前。在我的心目中，它像上帝的手指；上帝本人可能隱跡於芸芸眾生之間，我並不會因此而混淆上帝與凡人的區別。直到今天還是一樣，倘若我在內地的哪一座大城市，或者在巴黎我不熟悉的哪一個地段，為我「指點迷津」的路人把遠處某家醫院的鐘樓或者某所修道院裡高高頂著僧帽帽尖的鐘樓作為標誌指給我看，告訴我該走那條街，我的記憶會立刻在那鐘樓的樓身，發現一些蛛絲馬跡，同我所鍾愛、現在已經消失的鐘樓的外貌多少有相似之處。如果那路人回過頭來，看看我有沒有走錯路，他會驚訝地發覺，我已把該走的路和該辦的事置諸腦後，一連幾個鐘頭呆立在鐘樓前苦思冥想地追憶，而且在我的內心深處感到從遺忘中奪回來的地盤逐漸變得結實，並得到重建。於是，我大概比剛才問路的時候更為焦慮地在尋問自己的道路，我轉過一條街……但是……這是在我自己的心中尋問。 (p.75 追憶似水年華 I 在斯萬家那邊 聯經版 1992) 無論哪種情形，所有的一切最終都會回歸到它身上，它永遠凌駕於其他一切之上，以它那出其不意地出現在人們眼前的小尖塔，審視著全鎮的房舍，這小小的尖頂矗立在我面前，就像是天主的手指，儘管天主隱跡於人群之中不露真身，但我並不會就此把他混同於芸芸眾生呵。直到今天仍然如此，要是在一座外省的大城市，或者在巴黎某個我不熟悉的街區，有哪位給我指路的行人，遠遠地指給我看前面那條街的街角上一家醫院的大鐘，或是一座修道院頂端像戴著僧帽的鐘樓作為指示方位的標誌，我總會隱隱約約地發覺在它身上有某些跟我那親愛的、業已消失的形象頗為相似的地方，倘若這位行人轉過身來想看看我有沒有走錯路，他準會驚愕地叫瞅見我還沒邁步，兀自呆望著那座鐘樓，忘了散步，忘了買東西，一連幾個小時，寂然不動地佇立在那兒：在記憶深處尋覓著，感覺到在我內心深處有了一些從忘川奪回的正在乾涸、正在重建的土地。這會兒，我或許比剛才向他問路時還要焦急，我依然在尋路，我轉過了一條街……可是……那是在我心中的街喲…… (p.74~75 追尋逝去的時光 I 去斯萬家那邊 上海譯文版 周克希譯 2004) …it was always to the steeple that one must return, always it which dominated everything else, summing up the houses with an unexpected pinnacle, raised before me like the Finger of God, Whose Body might have been concealed below among the crowd of human bodies without fear of my confounding It, for that reason, with them. And so even to-day in any large provincial town, or in a quarter of Paris which I do not know well, if a passer-by who is ‘putting me on the right road’ shews me from afar, as a point to aim at, some belfry of a hospital, or a convent steeple lifting the peak of its ecclesiastical cap at the corner of the street which I am to take, my memory need only find in it some dim resemblance to that dear and vanished outline, and the passer-by, should he turn round to make sure that I have not gone astray, would see me, to his astonishment, oblivious of the walk that I had planned to take or the place where I was obliged to call, standing still on the spot, before that steeple, for hours on end, motionless, trying to remember, feeling deep within myself a tract of soil reclaimed from the waters of Lethe slowly drying until the buildings rise on it again; and then no doubt, and then more uneasily than when, just now, I asked him for a direction, I will seek my way again, I will turn a corner... but... the goal is in my heart... (Translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff ) …it was always to the steeple that we had to return, always the steeple that dominated everything, summing up the houses with an unexpected pinnacle, raised before me like the finger of God, whose body might be hidden in the crowd of humans, though I would not confuse it with them because of that. And even today, if in a large provincial town or a part of Paris I do not know well, a passing stranger who has “put me on the right path” shows me in the distance, as a reference point, some hospital belfry, some convent steeple lifting the peak of its ecclesiastical cap at the corner of a street I am supposed to take, if only my memory can obscurely find in it some small feature resembling the dear departed form, the stranger, if he turns around to make sure I am not going astray, may, to his astonishment, see me, forgetting the walk I had begun or the necessary errand, remain there in front of the steeple for hours motionless, trying to remember, feeling deep in myself Iands recovered from oblivion draining and rebuilding themselves; and then no doubt, and more anxiously than a short time before when I asked him to direct me, I am still seeking my path, I am turning a corner... but... I am doing so in my heart.. . (Translated by Lydia Davis) |
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