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| 2017/05/24 05:06:53瀏覽443｜回應0｜推薦9 | |
| 【書摘】蓋爾芒特家那邊—外祖母之死 (Death of Grandmother) 2 Nous retraversâmes l’avenue Gabriel, au milieu de la foule des promeneurs. Je fis asseoir ma grand’mère sur un banc et j’allai chercher un fiacre. Elle, au coeur de qui je me plaçais toujours pour juger la personne la plus insignifiante, elle m’était maintenant fermée, elle était devenue une partie du monde extérieur, et plus qu’à de simples passants, j’étais forcé de lui taire ce que je pensais de son état, de lui taire mon inquiétude. Je n’aurais pu lui en parler avec plus de confiance qu’à une étrangère. Elle venait de me restituer les pensées, les chagrins que depuis mon enfance je lui avais confiés pour toujours. Elle n’était pas morte encore. J’étais déjà seul. Et même ces allusions qu’elle avait faites aux Guermantes, à Molière, à nos conversations sur le petit noyau, prenaient un air sans appui, sans cause, fantastique, parce qu’elles sortaient du néant de ce même être qui, demain peut-être, n’existerait plus, pour lequel elles n’auraient plus aucun sens, de ce néant –incapable de les concevoir – que ma grand’mère serait bientôt. (l’édition Gallimard, Paris, 1946-47) 我們夾雜在熙來攘往的人群中，重新穿過加布里埃爾林蔭道。我把外祖母安頓在一張長凳上，然後去找出租馬車。我向來習慣於把自己放到她的心間，識別誰是最微不足道的人，可現在她向我關閉了心扉，她已成為外部世界的一部分，我對她身體的想法，我內心的憂愁，我也許可以向隨便那個行人傾訴，而對她卻只能緘口不提。同她談這些，還不如同一個陌生人談更有信心。剛才，她把我童年起就一直向她傾吐的思想和憂愁統統還給我了。她還沒有死。可我已經形單影隻，煢煢孑立。就連她從前對蓋爾芒特家族，對莫里哀，對我們關於小圈子的談話所做的諷喻，如今也變得無依無據，無原無因，荒誕不已。因為做這些諷喻的人明天就可能不再存在，它們對她已失去意義，外祖母不久就要故去，而死人是不可能構想諷喻的。 (p.349 追憶似水年華 III蓋爾芒特家那邊 聯經版 1992) We made our way back along the Avenue Gabriel, through the strolling crowd. I left my grandmother to rest on a seat and went in search of a cab. She, in whose heart I always placed myself when I had to form an opinion of the most unimportant person, she was now closed to me, had become part of the world outside, and, more than from any casual passerby, I was obliged to keep from her what I thought of her condition, to say no word of my uneasiness. I could not have spoken of it to her in greater confidence than to a stranger. She had suddenly handed back to me the thoughts, the griefs which, from the days of my infancy, I had entrusted for all time to her keeping. She was not yet dead. I was already alone. And even those allusions which she had made to the Guermantes, to Mme. de Sévigné, to our conversations about the little clan, assumed an air of being without point or occasion, fantastic, because they sprang from the nullity of this very being who to-morrow possibly would have ceased to exist, for whom they would no longer have any meaning, from that nullity, incapable of conceiving them, which my grandmother would shortly be. (Translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff) We made our way back along the Avenue Gabriel through the crowd of people out walking. I installed my grandmother on a bench and went off to look for a cab. I had always been accustomed to placing myself in her heart in order to form an opinion of the most insignificant person, but now she was a closed book to me, a part of the external world, and I was obliged to hide from her, more than from any casual passerby, what I thought about her state of health, and to betray no sign of my anxiety. I could not have mentioned it to her with any more confidence than to a stranger. She had suddenly restored to my keeping the thoughts, the sorrows that I had entrusted to her forever, since I was a child. She was not yet dead. But I was already alone. And even those references she had made to the Guermantes to Molière, to our conversations about the little clan, now seemed baseless, random, outlandish, because they arose from the non-reality of this same being, who tomorrow perhaps would no longer exist, for whom they would cease to have any meaning, from the nonbeing－incapable of making such references－that my grandmother would soon be. (Translated by Mark Treharne) |
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