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| 2014/07/23 10:36:59瀏覽250｜回應0｜推薦5 | |
| 【書摘】在斯萬家那邊—希爾貝特 (Gilberte) 10 Tous les soirs je me plaisais à imaginer cette lettre, je croyais la lire, je m’en récitais chaque phrase. Tout d’un coup je m’arrêtais effrayé. Je comprenais que si je devais recevoir une lettre de Gilberte, ce ne pourrait pas en tous cas être celle-là, puisque c’était moi qui venais de la composer. Et dès lors, je m’efforçais de détourner ma pensée des mots que j’aurais aimé qu’elle m’écrivît, par peur, en les énonçant, d’exclure justement ceux-là – les plus chers, les plus désirés – du champ des réalisations possibles. Même si par une invraisemblable coïncidence, c’eût été justement la lettre que j’avais inventée que de son côté m’eût adressée Gilberte, y reconnaissant mon oeuvre, je n’eusse pas eu l’impression de recevoir quelque chose qui ne vînt pas de moi, quelque chose de réel, de nouveau, un bonheur extérieur à mon esprit, indépendant de ma volonté, vraiment donné par l’amour. (Éditions Gallimard, 1987) 每天晚上我都樂於想像這樣一封來信，我在心裡默讀，每一句話都背得出來。突然間，我怔住了。我明白，如果我接到希爾貝特的信的話，那決不會是這樣一封，因為這封是我自己編出來的。從此以後，我就竭力不去想我希望她給我寫的那些字眼，生怕老是這麼念叨，結果恰恰把這些最彌足珍貴，最最盼望的詞語從可能實現的領域中排除出去。即使出之於極不可能的巧合，希爾貝特寫給我的信果然正好就像我自己編造的那樣，能從中看出是我的作品，那我得到的將是收到一件出之我手的東西的印象，就不是什麼真實的、新的、與我的主觀思想無關、跟我的意志無涉、真正是由愛情產生的東西了。 (p.442 追憶似水年華 I 在斯萬家那邊 聯經版 1992) 每天傍晚我都陶醉於想像這封信的樂趣之中，我覺得當真讀了這封信，在心裡默念信中的每字每句。驀然同，我怔怔地停了下來。其實我明白，倘若我真的收到吉爾貝特的信，那封信無論如何也不會是這封信，要知道這封信是我剛才杜撰的呀。從此以後，我就盡量克制自己的思念，不再去想我盼著她給我寫的那些話，生怕這麼一挑明，反而會把這些話——我最珍貴、最渴望的話——逐出了有可能實現的範疇。即使退一萬步說，純然出於巧合，吉爾貝特寫給我的信恰好就是我杜撰的那封信，那一旦認出這是自己炮製的東西，我的印象就不會像收到一件並非出於我的手的東西，一件實在而新鮮的東西時那麼好，我也未必會感受到一種存在於我的意念之外、不依賴於我的意願、確確實實由愛情賦予的幸福。 (p.453 追尋逝去的時光 I 去斯萬家那邊 上海譯文版 周克希譯 2004) Every evening I would beguile myself into imagining this letter, believing that I was actually reading it, reciting each of its sentences in turn. Suddenly I would stop, in alarm. I had realised that, if I was to receive a letter from Gilberte, it could not, in any case, be this letter, since it was I myself who had just composed it. And from that moment I would strive to keep my thoughts clear of the words which I should have liked her to write to me, from fear lest, by first selecting them myself, I should be excluding just those identical words,—the dearest, the most desired—from the field of possible events. Even if, by an almost impossible coincidence, it had been precisely the letter of my invention that Gilberte had addressed to me of her own accord, recognising my own work in it I should not have had the impression that I was receiving something that had not originated in myself, something real, something new, a happiness external to my mind, independent of my will, a gift indeed from love. (Translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff ) Every evening I liked to imagine this letter, I would believe I was reading it, I would recite each sentence of it to myself. All of a sudden I stopped in alarm. I realized that if I were to receive a letter from Gilberte, it could not be that one anyway since I was the one who had just written it. And from then on, I forced myself to turn my thoughts away from the words I would have liked her to write to me, for fear that by articulating them, I would exclude precisely those—the dearest, the most desired—from the field of all possible compositions. Even if through an improbable coincidence it had been precisely the letter that I had invented that Gilberte on her own account addressed to me, recognizing my work in it I would not have bad the impression of receiving something that did not come from me, something real, new, a happiness external to my mind, independent of my will, truly given by love. (Translated by Lydia Davis) |
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