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| 2023/12/01 17:08:33瀏覽60｜回應0｜推薦7 | |
| Excerpt：麥可．翁達傑的《貓桌上的水手》 不確定是否真正讀完，無關推薦，就只想留下一段有提及普魯斯特的書摘。 https://www.books.com.tw/products/0010558757 貓桌上的水手 The Cat’s Table 作者：麥可．翁達傑 原文作者：Michael Ondaatje 譯者：李淑珺 出版社：時報出版 出版日期：2012/09/17 一九五○年代初，來自斯里蘭卡可倫坡的十一歲男孩麥可登上一艘開往英格蘭的船，母親正在大洋對岸等他。上船後的餐廳裡，他被分配在「貓桌」──距離船長最遠的桌子──象徵船上最「沒地位」的一群人。廿一天的海上航程中，他和同桌兩名同齡男孩成為至交。隨著船隻航過印度洋，穿過蘇伊士運河，駛進地中海，幾個男孩也經歷一個又一個冒險，像被釋放的水銀般橫衝直撞。船上有一座犬舍和一座熱帶植物園，乘客更是形形色色，包括行蹤飄忽的表姊愛蜜麗，籠罩陰影的藍斯葛提小姐，最令男孩們好奇的是，每天深夜從艙底出來放風，戴著手銬腳鐐的囚犯。他的罪行與命運帶有一個令人驚愕的祕密，讓他們一輩子揮之不去。 書中隨著敘述者在艙室間移動，在當時歷險和成年後生活點滴間往復穿梭，說出一個又一個令人著迷的故事──時而辛辣尖銳，時而震撼人心──童年時代最神奇的，經常是最禁忌的，翁達傑是說故事的能手，藉由一生一次的海上冒險之旅，意外展開延續一生的回憶。 【Excerpt】 …… 到了火車站，我們確認了火車的時刻，然後走進鐵路橋下的深夜餐廳，坐在那裡，幾乎沒說話，只是看著樹脂桌邊面對面的彼此。 我從來不曾把瑪西歸類爲拉瑪丁的妹妹。他們兩人似乎都是很明確的自己。她有個急切的靈魂。對她提起一個可能，她就會迎上前去，彷彿是一首歌的下一句。如果在另一個時代，她就會被描述爲像是「火藥筒」。瑪薩帕先生或藍斯葛提小姐就會這樣形容她。但在這個夜晚，在這火車站旁幾乎空無一人的餐廳裡，她卻遲疑而內向。坐在這裡的是一對已經長大的男女，一起經歷了喪禮與守靈餐會，卻互不傾吐。我需要拉瑪丁在這裡，跟我們在一起。我習慣了那樣。或許是瑪西的安靜讓他出現，也或許是我們之間那新的感情迅速抹去了那些歲月，總而言之他進入了我心裡，而我哭了起來。關於他的一切突然都在我心裡：他緩慢的踱步，他面對可疑的笑話時的尷尬，他對亞丁的那隻狗的愛與需要，他對自己的心臟的仔細照顧――「拉瑪丁的心」，他綁的繩結，還有他如此驕傲那繩結救了我們的命，還有他走開時、他身體的樣子。以及馮賽卡先生看到的，他不錯的智力，雖然卡修斯跟我從來都不曾看出或肯定，但那智力始終都在。在我跟拉瑪丁不再見面之後，還有多少關於拉瑪丁的一切，我僅僅藉由記憶就放進我心底？ At the station we confirmed the time of the train, then went into the night café under the railway bridge and sat there barely speaking, looking at each other across the formica. I never categorised Massi as Ramadhin’s sister. They seemed too distinctly themselves. She had an eager spirit. One mentioned a possibility and she met it, like the next line of a song. She was someone people in another era would have called ‘a pistol’. That is how Mr Mazappa or Miss Lasqueti would have described her. But she was inward and hesitant this night in the almost empty cafeteria by the train station. There was an older couple there, who had also been at the funeral and reception, but they kept to themselves. I needed Ramadhin there, with us. I was used to that. Maybe it was Massi’s quietness that allowed his presence, and maybe it was this new affection between us that so quickly erased the years, but he came right into my heart and I started crying. Everything about him was suddenly there in me: his slow stroll, his awkwardness around a questionable joke, his love and need of that dog in Aden, his careful care of his heart – ‘Ramadhin’s heart’ – the knots he had tied and was so proud of that had saved our lives, how his body looked when he walked away from you. And the decent intelligence that Mr Fonseka saw, and that Cassius and I never saw or acknowledged, but which was always there. How much more of Ramadhin did I take into myself, just with memory, after we stopped seeing each other? 我這個人有一顆冰冷的心。當我面對重大的悲痛，我會樹立起障礙，讓那喪失不會走進我心底太深、太多。一堵牆會立刻樹立起來，而且不會倒下。普魯斯特會寫道：「我們以爲不再愛死去的人，但是……突然我們瞥見一叢古老的樹林，於是我們淚水決堤。」我不知道那是什麼。眼前並沒有樹叢。如果我誠實，我必須承認我已經有一段時間不認爲拉瑪丁是我親近的人。在我們二十幾歲的年代，我們都忙著變成別人。 I am someone who has a cold heart. If I am beside a great grief I throw barriers up so the loss cannot go too deep or too far. There is a wall instantly in place, and it will not fall. Proust has this line: ‘We think we no longer love our dead, but … suddenly we catch sight again of an old glove and burst into tears.’ I don’t know what it was. There was no glove. He had been dead six days. If I was being honest, I had to admit I had not really thought of Ramadhin as someone I had been close to for some time. In our twenties we are busy becoming other people. 我愧疚自己不夠愛他嗎？有一部分是。但並不是任何思緒擊垮了那道牆，讓他進入我心底。我一定是開始回憶了起來，重播起關於他的一切微小片段，揭露出他對我的關心。他用一個手勢示意我灑了東西在自己的襯衫上，就發生在我上次見到他的時候。他試著要我跟他一起學他正興奮地學習的事物。當他去念一所學校，而我念了另一所學校時，他如何不嫌麻煩地在英格蘭找到我，持續當我的朋友。我在僑民的人際網絡中並不難找到，但無論如何，是他把我找出來。 Did I feel guilty that I had not loved him enough? That was partly it. But it was not any thought that broke down the wall, allowing him to come into me. I must have begun remembering, replaying all the little fragments of him that revealed the concern he had for me. A gesture to signal that I was spilling something on my shirt, which in fact had happened the last time I saw him. The way he tried to include me in what he was excitedly learning. How he went out of his way to hunt me down and then remain my friend in England, when he had gone to one school and I to another. I was not difficult to find in the network of expatriates, but anyway he had searched me out. 我完全不知道我那樣坐在那裡多久，在分隔我跟街道的厚玻璃旁，瑪西坐在我對面一言不發，只伸出一手到我面前，手心向上，但我沒有看到，因此也沒有握住。有人說，我們會因眼淚而擴大，而非縮小。我花了很長的時間才到達這裡。我無法看著她。我望向餐廳的燈光籠罩處，望進黑暗裡。 「來。跟我來吧。」她說，於是我們走上車站的石階去等火車。還有幾分鐘，於是我們在長長的月臺上來回走著，走到它沒有燈光的周邊，又走回來，彼此沒說一句話。當火車來時，將會有一個擁抱，還有一個充滿確認與哀傷的吻，敲在開啓未來幾年的門上。我們聽到廣播擴音器的爆裂聲，然後看到一道光照向我們。 I have no idea how long I sat like that, by the plate-glass window that separated me from the street, with Massi across from me not saying a word, just her hand reaching out to me, palm turned up, that I did not see and so had not taken. We are expanded by tears, we are told, not reduced by them. It had taken me a long time. I couldn’t look at her. I peered beyond the fall of restaurant light into the dark. ‘Come. Come with me,’ she said, and we went up the stone steps of the station to wait for the train. There were still a few minutes and we walked up and down the long platform to its unlit peripheries and back, not a word between us. When the train approached there would be an embrace, a kiss of recognition and sadness that would knock down the door for us for the next few years. We heard the crackle of an announcement and then saw one light beaming down on us. |
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