《渺小一生》:有時(shí)他很好奇

　 In the cab, he finds he really is tired, and he leans his forehead against the greased window and closes his eyes. By the time he reaches home, he feels as leaden as a corpse, and in the apartment, he starts taking off his clothes—shoes, sweater, shirt, undershirt, pants—as soon as he’s locked the door behind him, leaving them littering the floor in a trail as he makes his way to the bathroom. His hands tremor as he unsticks the bag from beneath the sink, and although he hadn’t thought he’d need to cut himself that night—nothing that day or early evening had indicated he might—he is almost ravenous for it now. He has long ago run out of blank skin on his forearms, and he now recuts over old cuts, using the edge of the razor to saw through the tough, webby scar tissue: when the new cuts heal, they do so in warty furrows, and he is disgusted and dismayed and fascinated all at once by how severely he has deformed himself. Lately he has begun using the cream that Andy gave him for his back on his arms, and he thinks it helps, a bit: the skin feels looser, the scars a little softer and more supple.

在出租車(chē)上，他發(fā)現(xiàn)自己真的累了，就把前額靠在油膩的玻璃隔板上，閉上眼睛。到家時(shí)，他覺(jué)得整個(gè)身軀沉重得像一具尸體?；氐剿菍庸⒑螅绘i上前門(mén)，他就開(kāi)始脫衣服：鞋子、毛衣、襯衫、汗衫、長(zhǎng)褲，邊走邊丟在地板上，一路走到了浴室。他雙手顫抖著，把黏在水槽底下的那個(gè)小袋子拿出來(lái)。盡管他之前沒(méi)想到這天晚上會(huì)有割自己的必要——一整個(gè)白天和傍晚都沒(méi)有任何跡象——但他現(xiàn)在幾乎是饑渴起來(lái)。他兩邊前臂上的皮膚早就沒(méi)有空白的地方了，他就在舊的割痕上再割，用刮胡刀片的邊緣割過(guò)那粗糙、網(wǎng)狀的疤痕組織。當(dāng)新的割痕愈合，就會(huì)形成多疣的皺痕，他看到自己把自己毀得多嚴(yán)重，既令他厭惡、驚愕，同時(shí)也令他著迷。最近他開(kāi)始用安迪開(kāi)給他擦背的那種藥膏擦手臂，他覺(jué)得有點(diǎn)幫助：那些皮膚變得比較松弛，疤痕也變得柔軟有彈性。

　 The shower area Malcolm has created in this bathroom is enormous, so large he now sits within it when he’s cutting, his legs stretched out before him, and after he’s done, he’s careful to wash away the blood because the floor is a great plain of marble, and as Malcolm has told him again and again, once you stain marble, there’s nothing that can be done. And then he is in bed, light-headed but not quite sleepy, staring at the dark, mercury-like gleam the chandelier makes in the shadowy room.

馬爾科姆為他在浴室隔出的淋浴區(qū)非常大，大到他現(xiàn)在坐在里頭割自己時(shí)，雙腿可以往前伸直。等到他割完，就會(huì)仔細(xì)把血沖掉，因?yàn)榱茉^(qū)的地板是一整塊大理石，馬爾科姆一再交代他，要是大理石染了色，就沒(méi)有辦法補(bǔ)救了。然后他回臥室躺在床上，頭暈暈的，但是不太困，他只是瞪著吊燈在黑暗的房間里形成水銀般的光澤。

　 “I’m lonely,” he says aloud, and the silence of the apartment absorbs the words like blood soaking into cotton.

“我很孤單?！彼f(shuō)出聲來(lái)，公寓的靜默吸走了那些話，就像棉花吸了血。

　 This loneliness is a recent discovery, and is different from the other lonelinesses he has experienced: it is not the childhood loneliness of not having parents; or of lying awake in a motel room with Brother Luke, trying not to move, not to rouse him, while the moon threw hard white stripes of light across the bed; or of the time he ran away from the home, the successful time, and spent the night wedged into the cleft of an oak tree’s buckling roots that spread open like a pair of legs, making himself as small as he could. He had thought he was lonely then, but now he realizes that what he was feeling was not loneliness but fear. But now he has nothing to fear. Now he has protected himself: he has this apartment with its triple-locked doors, and he has money. He has parents, he has friends. He will never again have to do anything he doesn’t want to for food, or transportation, or shelter, or escape.

這種孤單是他最近才發(fā)現(xiàn)的，不同于他以前體驗(yàn)過(guò)的任何孤單：不是童年時(shí)沒(méi)有父母的那種；也不是跟盧克修士躺在汽車(chē)旅館房間里睡不著，忍著不動(dòng)以免吵醒他，望著亮白的月光照在床上的那種。他成功逃離少年之家那回，有一夜來(lái)到了一棵橡樹(shù)下，兩道隆起的樹(shù)根有如兩條腿岔開(kāi)，他就縮在樹(shù)根間的空隙里，盡量縮得小小的。當(dāng)時(shí)他也覺(jué)得很孤單，但現(xiàn)在他明白當(dāng)時(shí)那種感覺(jué)不是孤單，而是害怕。現(xiàn)在他沒(méi)什么好怕了?，F(xiàn)在他已經(jīng)保護(hù)好自己了：他有這間公寓，門(mén)上有三道鎖，而且他有錢(qián)了。他有父母，有朋友。他再也不必為了食物、交通、住處、逃跑，而去做任何他不想做的事情。

　 He hadn’t been lying to Willem: he is not meant for a relationship and has never thought he was. He has never envied his friends theirs—to do so would be akin to a cat coveting a dog’s bark: it is something that would never occur to him to envy, because it is impossible, something that is simply alien to his very species. But recently, people have been behaving as if it is something he could have, or should want to have, and although he knows they mean it in part as a kindness, it feels like a taunt: they could be telling him he could be a decathlete and it would be as obtuse and as cruel.

他之前沒(méi)跟威廉撒謊：他不適合有伴侶，也沒(méi)想要過(guò)。他從不羨慕朋友們有伴侶，就像是一只貓不會(huì)羨慕狗的叫聲。他從來(lái)沒(méi)想到要羨慕，因?yàn)槟鞘遣豢赡艿?，和他這個(gè)物種完全不兼容的。但最近，很多人表現(xiàn)得好像那是他可以擁有，或是應(yīng)該想要擁有的。就算他知道他們多半出于善意，但仍感覺(jué)像是在嘲弄他。那種遲鈍、殘忍的程度，簡(jiǎn)直像在告訴他，他可以成為十項(xiàng)全能選手。

　 He expects it from Malcolm and Harold; Malcolm because he is happy and sees a single path—his path—to happiness, and so therefore occasionally asks him if he can set him up with someone, or if he wants to find someone, and then is bewildered when he declines; Harold because he knows that the part of the parental role Harold most enjoys is inserting himself into his life and rooting about in it as best as he can. He has grown to enjoy this too, sometimes—he is touched that someone is interested enough in him to order him around, to be disappointed by the decisions he makes, to have expectations for him, to assume the responsibility of ownership of him. Two years ago, he and Harold were at a restaurant and Harold was giving him a lecture about how his job at Rosen Pritchard had made him essentially an accessory to corporate malfeasance, when they both realized that their waiter was standing above them, holding his pad before him.

他早就料到馬爾科姆和哈羅德會(huì)來(lái)勸他。馬爾科姆是因?yàn)樽约汉芸鞓?lè)，看到一條通往快樂(lè)的路（自己走過(guò)的那條），偶爾就會(huì)來(lái)問(wèn)能不能幫他介紹某個(gè)人，或問(wèn)他想不想找個(gè)伴。當(dāng)他拒絕時(shí)，馬爾科姆就不知所措。而哈羅德，則是因?yàn)樗拦_德最喜歡父母角色的原因，就是可以闖入他的生活，而且在里頭盡可能地查探。有時(shí)候，他也漸漸享受這部分——他很感動(dòng)有人對(duì)他興趣大到會(huì)支持他，會(huì)對(duì)他的決定感到失望，會(huì)對(duì)他抱著期待，會(huì)假設(shè)自己對(duì)他有責(zé)任。兩年前，他和哈羅德去一家餐廳，哈羅德批評(píng)他說(shuō)，羅普克的工作害他成了企業(yè)不法行為的幫兇，批評(píng)到一半時(shí)，他們發(fā)現(xiàn)侍者站在桌旁，手里拿著菜單。

　 “Pardon me,” said the waiter. “Should I come back?”

“打擾一下，”那個(gè)侍者說(shuō)，“要我晚一點(diǎn)再過(guò)來(lái)嗎？”

　 “No, don’t worry,” Harold said, picking up his menu. “I’m just yelling at my son, but I can do that after we order.” The waiter had given him a commiserating smile, and he had smiled back, thrilled to have been claimed as another’s in public, to finally be a member of the tribe of sons and daughters. Later, Harold had resumed his rant, and he had pretended to be upset, but really, he had been happy the entire night, contentment saturating his every cell, smiling so much that Harold had finally asked him if he was drunk.

“不，沒(méi)關(guān)系?！惫_德說(shuō)，拿起他的菜單，“我只是在罵我的兒子，不過(guò)我可以點(diǎn)完菜再繼續(xù)罵?！蹦鞘陶呓o了他一個(gè)同情的微笑，他也微笑以對(duì)，心里其實(shí)很興奮能當(dāng)眾被稱(chēng)為兒子，很興奮終于為人子女了。稍后，哈羅德又繼續(xù)責(zé)備他，他就假裝被罵得很不高興，但其實(shí)，他整個(gè)晚上都很開(kāi)心，滿足感滲透到了他的每個(gè)細(xì)胞里，讓他一直忍不住微笑，笑到最后哈羅德都問(wèn)他是不是喝醉了。

　 But now Harold too has started to ask him questions. “This is a terrific place,” he said when he was in town the previous month for the birthday dinner he’d commanded Willem not to throw for him and which Willem had done anyway. Harold had stopped by the apartment the next day, and as he always did, rambled about it admiringly, saying the same things he always did: “This is a terrific place”; “It’s so clean in here”; “Malcolm did such a good job”; and, lately, “It’s massive, though, Jude. Don’t you get lonely in here by yourself?”

但現(xiàn)在哈羅德也開(kāi)始問(wèn)他一些問(wèn)題。“這個(gè)地方太棒了?！彼匣貋?lái)紐約市區(qū)時(shí)說(shuō)。當(dāng)時(shí)他來(lái)參加他的生日晚宴，他已經(jīng)叫威廉別辦了，但威廉沒(méi)聽(tīng)他的話。哈羅德次日來(lái)到他的公寓，就像每次來(lái)一樣，一進(jìn)門(mén)就夸贊個(gè)不停，說(shuō)他每回都會(huì)說(shuō)的話，“這個(gè)地方太棒了”，“這里真是太干凈了”，“馬爾科姆真是做得太好了”，最近又加了別的，“不過(guò)裘德，這個(gè)地方好大。你自己一個(gè)人不覺(jué)得孤單嗎？”

　 “No, Harold,” he said. “I like being alone.”

“不會(huì)，哈羅德，”他說(shuō)，“我喜歡一個(gè)人獨(dú)處?！?

　 Harold had grunted. “Willem seems happy,” he said. “Robin seems like a nice girl.”

哈羅德咕噥著，“威廉好像很快樂(lè)，”他說(shuō)，“羅賓好像是個(gè)好姑娘?！?

　 “She is,” he said, making Harold a cup of tea. “And I think he is happy.”

“她的確很好。”他說(shuō)，幫哈羅德泡茶，“我也覺(jué)得他很快樂(lè)?！?

　 “Jude, don’t you want that for yourself?” Harold asked.

“裘德，你不希望自己也像那樣快樂(lè)嗎？”哈羅德問(wèn)。

　 He sighed. “No, Harold, I’m fine.”

他嘆氣：“不希望，哈羅德。我很好?！?

　 “Well, what about me and Julia?” asked Harold. “We’d like to see you with someone.”

“唔，那我和朱麗婭呢？”哈羅德問(wèn)，“我們希望看到你有個(gè)伴?！?

　 “You know I want to make you and Julia happy,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “But I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help you on this front. Here.” He gave Harold his tea.

“你知道我想讓你和朱麗婭開(kāi)心?！彼f(shuō)，試著保持聲音的平穩(wěn)，“但這方面我恐怕幫不了忙。來(lái)?！彼巡柽f給哈羅德。

　 Sometimes he wonders whether this very idea of loneliness is something he would feel at all had he not been awakened to the fact that he should be feeling lonely, that there is something strange and unacceptable about the life he has. Always, there are people asking him if he misses what it had never occurred to him to want, never occurred to him he might have: Harold and Malcolm, of course, but also Richard, whose girlfriend, a fellow artist named India, has all but moved in with him, and people he sees less frequently as well—Citizen and Elijah and Phaedra and even Kerrigan, his old colleague from Judge Sullivan’s chambers, who had looked him up a few months ago when he was in town with his husband. Some of them ask him with pity, and some ask him with suspicion: the first group feels sorry for him because they assume his singlehood is not his decision but a state imposed upon him; and the second group feels a kind of hostility for him, because they think that singlehood is his decision, a defiant violation of a fundamental law of adulthood.

有時(shí)他很好奇，要是他沒(méi)意識(shí)到自己應(yīng)該覺(jué)得孤單的事實(shí)，沒(méi)意識(shí)到自己的生活有些奇怪、不夠滿意之處，那么他還會(huì)覺(jué)得孤單嗎？總是有人問(wèn)他是否想要那些自己根本從沒(méi)想要、從不認(rèn)為自己可能擁有的東西。哈羅德和馬爾科姆當(dāng)然會(huì)問(wèn)，但還有理查德（他女朋友印蒂亞也是藝術(shù)家，兩人就差沒(méi)同居了），以及他越來(lái)越不常見(jiàn)到的朋友們，包括西提任、伊萊賈和菲德拉。甚至當(dāng)年一起當(dāng)沙利文法官助理的同事克里根，幾個(gè)月前跟他丈夫來(lái)紐約時(shí)來(lái)拜訪他，也問(wèn)了同樣的問(wèn)題。有些人問(wèn)起時(shí)帶著憐憫，有些人則帶著懷疑：第一種人替他感到遺憾，因?yàn)樗麄兗僭O(shè)他單身不是出于自己的選擇，而是無(wú)奈接受的；第二種人則對(duì)他懷有某種敵意，因?yàn)樗麄冋J(rèn)為單身是他的選擇，公然違抗了成人的基本法則。

　 Either way, being single at forty is different from being single at thirty, and with every year it becomes less understandable, less enviable, and more pathetic, more inappropriate. For the past five years, he has attended every partners’ dinner alone, and a year ago, when he became an equity partner, he attended the partners’ annual retreat alone as well. The week before the retreat, Lucien had come into his office one Friday night and sat down to review the week’s business, as he often did. They talked about the retreat, which was going to be in Anguilla, and which the two of them genuinely dreaded, unlike the other partners, who pretended to dread it but actually (he and Lucien agreed) were looking forward to it.

不管是哪種，40歲單身跟30歲單身是不一樣的，每增加一歲，單身這事就更加無(wú)法理解、更不值得羨慕，也更可悲、更不適當(dāng)。過(guò)去五年，他都獨(dú)自參加各種晚宴，一年前，他在公司升為權(quán)益合伙人后，也是獨(dú)自參加合伙人的年度旅游。旅游前的那個(gè)星期，盧西恩在星期五晚上來(lái)他的辦公室，像平常那樣坐下來(lái)跟他探討這個(gè)星期的事務(wù)。他們談到年度旅游，這回要去加勒比海的安圭拉，他們兩個(gè)都很怕年度旅游，不像其他合伙人，嘴上說(shuō)害怕，但他和盧西恩都認(rèn)為他們其實(shí)很期待。

　 “Is Meredith coming?” he asked.

“梅瑞迪絲會(huì)去嗎？”他問(wèn)起盧西恩的太太。

　 “She is.” There was a silence, and he knew what was coming next. “Are you bringing anyone?”

“會(huì)?！北R西恩回答，沉默了一下，他知道接下來(lái)他會(huì)說(shuō)什么了，“你會(huì)帶誰(shuí)去嗎？”