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| 2014/02/27 22:10:40瀏覽169｜回應0｜推薦10 | |
| 【書摘】在斯萬家那邊—斯萬的愛情 (Swann in love) 3 À son entrée, tandis que Mme Verdurin montrant des roses qu’il avait envoyées le matin lui disait : « Je vous gronde » et lui indiquait une place à côté d’Odette, le pianiste jouait, pour eux deux, la petite phrase de Vinteuil qui était comme l’air national de leur amour. Il commençait par la tenue des trémolos de violon que pendant quelques mesures on entend seuls, occupant tout le premier plan, puis tout d’un coup ils semblaient s’écarter et comme dans ces tableaux de Pieter de Hooch, qu’approfondit le cadre étroit d’une porte entr’ouverte, tout au loin, d’une couleur autre, dans le velouté d’une lumière interposée, la petite phrase apparaissait, dansante, pastorale, intercalée, épisodique, appartenant à un autre monde. Elle passait à plis simples et immortels, distribuant çà et là les dons de sa grâce, avec le même ineffable sourire ; mais Swann y croyait distinguer maintenant du désenchantement. Elle semblait connaître la vanité de ce bonheur dont elle montrait la voie. Dans sa grâce légère, elle avait quelque chose d’accompli, comme le détachement qui succède au regret. (p.215, Éditions Gallimard, 1987) 等他進客廳的時候，維爾迪蘭夫人指著他早上送去的玫瑰花對他說：「我可要說您了，」同時指著奧黛特身邊的位子叫他坐下，這時鋼琴家正為他們兩個人演奏凡德伊的那個樂句——它彷彿是他倆愛情的國歌。他總是從小提琴的震音部分開始，有幾拍是不帶伴奏的，占著最顯著的地位；然後這震音部分彷彿突然離去，而那個樂句就像霍赫室內畫中的物體由於半開著的狹窄門框而顯得更深遠一樣，從遙遠的地方，以另一種色彩，在柔和的光線中出現了；它舞姿輕盈，帶有田園風味，像是一段插曲，屬於另一個世界。這個樂句以單純而不朽的步伐向前移動，帶著難以用言語形容的微笑，將它的優美作為禮品向四面八方施捨；可是斯萬現在卻仿佛覺得這個樂句原來的魔力頓然消失了。這個樂句彷彿認識到了它所指引的那種幸福的虛妄。在它輕盈的優美之中已經有點萬事俱休的感覺，就好像是隨著徒然的遺憾之情而來的超脫之感。 (p.238 追憶似水年華 I 在斯萬家那邊 聯經版 1992) 他走進客廳，維爾迪蘭夫人一邊指著他早上送去的玫瑰花對他說：”我們正在責備您呢，”一邊示意他坐在奧黛特身邊的那個位子，鋼琴家為他倆彈起凡特伊奏嗚曲中的一個樂句，儼然這就是兩人愛情的國歌。它總是從小提琴的震弓部分開始，無伴奏的小提琴震弓延續了幾個小節，形象非常鮮明，隨後倏地一下子，震弓消散而去，眼前彷彿是霍赫的室內畫，房門半開著，狹窄的門框使畫面顯得格外深邃，在遠處柔美的光影中，這個小樂句以一種別樣的色調出現了，帶若舞蹈的節奏，田園的風味，時斷時續，猶如一段小小的插曲，屬於另外一個世界。它以單純質樸的、義無返顧的步履款款而行，始終帶著那抹難以形容的笑容，慷慨地沿途留下它優雅的倩影；然而斯萬現在從中體察到了幻想破滅的醒悟。對它自己引領你趨近的幸福，它似乎早已意識到了其中的虛幻。在它輕盈的優雅中，有著一種持久不變的東西：愁楚過後的超脫。 (p.242~243 追尋逝去的時光 I 去斯萬家那邊 上海譯文版 周克希譯 2004) He would enter the drawing-room; and there, while Mme. Verdurin, pointing to the roses which he had sent her that morning, said: “I am furious with you!” and sent him to the place kept for him, by the side of Odette, the pianist would play to them—for their two selves, and for no one else—that little phrase by Vinteuil which was, so to speak, the national anthem of their love. He began, always, with a sustained tremolo from the violin part, which, for several bars, was unaccompanied, and filled all the foreground; until suddenly it seemed to be drawn aside, and—just as in those interiors by Pieter de Hooch, where the subject is set back a long way through the narrow framework of a half-opened door—infinitely remote, in colour quite different, velvety with the radiance of some intervening light, the little phrase appeared, dancing, pastoral, interpolated, episodic, belonging to another world. It passed, with simple and immortal movements, scattering on every side the bounties of its grace, smiling ineffably still; but Swann thought that he could now discern in it some disenchantment. It seemed to be aware how vain, how hollow was the happiness to which it shewed the way. In its airy grace there was, indeed, something definitely achieved, and complete in itself, like the mood of philosophic detachment which follows an outburst of vain regret. (Translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff ) When he came in, as Mme. Verdurin, pointing to some roses he had sent that morning, said to him: “You deserve a scolding” and showed him a spot next to Odette, the pianist would play for the two of them the little phrase by Vinteuil that was like the anthem of their love. He would begin with the sustained violin tremolos that are heard alone for a few measures, occupying the entire foreground, then all of a sudden they seemed to move away and, as in those paintings by Pieter de Hooch, which assume greater depth because of the narrow frame of a half-open door, away in the distance, in a different color, in the velvet of an interposed light, the little phrase would appear, dancing, pastoral, interpolated, episodic, belonging to another world. It rippled past, simple and immortal, distributing here and there the gifts of its grace, with the same ineffable smile; but Swann thought he could now distinguish within it some disenchantment. It seemed to realize how futile this happiness was to which it showed the way. In its light graces there was something finished about it, like the detachment that follows regret. (Translated by Lydia Davis) |
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| ( 知識學習｜隨堂筆記 ) |
