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| 2017/08/30 05:50:00瀏覽472｜回應0｜推薦9 | |
| 【書摘】索多姆和戈摩爾—對外祖母的想念 (Missing Grandmother) 5-2 ...et pis que cela, moi qui ne concevais plus de bonheur maintenant qu’à en pouvoir retrouver répandu dans mon souvenir sur les pentes de ce visage modelé et incliné par la tendresse, j’avais mis autrefois une rage insensée à chercher d’en extirper jusqu’aux plus petits plaisirs, tel ce jour où Saint-Loup avait fait la photographie de grand’mère et où, ayant peine à dissimuler à celle-ci la puérilité presque ridicule de la coquetterie qu’elle mettait à poser, avec son chapeau à grands bords, dans un demi-jour seyant, je m’étais laissé aller à murmurer quelques mots impatientés et blessants, qui, je l’avais senti à une contraction de son visage, avaient porté, l’avaient atteinte ; c’était moi qu’ils déchiraient, maintenant qu’était impossible à jamais la consolation de mille baisers. (l’édition Gallimard, Paris, 1946-47 ) …比這更糟的是，我，我現在已別無幸福可言，只能從我的回憶裡，從這張臉龐因和顏悅色而突出、傾斜的各個部位上，重新找回幸福，在昔日，我曾瘋狂地極力從中搜刮幸福，甚至連蛛絲馬跡的歡樂也不放過，比如在聖盧為我外祖母拍照的那天，外祖母頭戴寬沿帽，在不明不暗、強弱適中的光線中，慢悠悠地擺出賣弄風情的姿態，顯得幼稚，近乎可笑，我實在按捺不住，要向她挑明這一點，失口嘀咕了幾句不耐煩且又傷人的話，從她臉上那一陣抽搐，我感覺到我說的話已經傳至她的耳朵，傷害了她的心；其實，這些話撕碎的正是我自己，因為現在千親萬吻的撫慰是萬萬不可能了。 (p.171 追憶似水年華 IV 索多姆和戈摩爾 聯經版1992) ...and, what was worse, I, who could conceive no other happiness now than in finding happiness shed in my memory over the contours of that face, moulded and bowed by love, had set to work with frantic efforts, in the past, to destroy even its most modest pleasures, as on the day when Saint-Loup had taken my grandmother’s photograph and I, unable to conceal from her what I thought of the ridiculous childishness of the coquetry with which she posed for him, with her wide-brimmed hat, in a flattering half light, had allowed myself to mutter a few impatient, wounding words, which, I had perceived from a contraction of her features, had carried, had pierced her; it was I whose heart they were rending now that there was no longer possible, ever again, the consolation of a thousand kisses. (Translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff ) ...and, what was worse, I, who could conceive of no other happiness now than of being able to find it once again extended in my memory across the planes of that face, molded and bowed by tenderness, I had once shown a senseless fury in trying to extirpate from it even the smallest pleasures, as on the day when Saint-Loup had taken my grandmother’s photograph and, finding it hard to conceal from her the almost ridiculously childish coquettishness she was putting into posing, with her broad-brimmed hat, in a fetching half-light, I had allowed myself to murmur a few impatient and hurtful words, which, I had sensed from the way her face contracted, had struck home, had wounded her; it was I whom they were lacerating, now that the consolation of a thousand kisses was forever impossible. (Translated by John Sturrock) |
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| ( 知識學習｜隨堂筆記 ) |
