《渺小一生》:“可是——嚴重嗎？”

　 And in an essential way, this was what he was most ashamed of: not his poor understanding of sex, not his traitorous racial tendencies, not his inability to separate himself from his parents or make his own money or behave like an autonomous creature. It was that, when he and his colleagues sat there at night, the group of them burrowed deep into their own ambitious dream-structures, all of them drawing and planning their improbable buildings, he was doing nothing. He had lost the ability to imagine anything. And so every evening, while the others created, he copied: he drew buildings he had seen on his travels, buildings other people had dreamed and constructed, buildings he had lived in or passed through. Again and again, he made what had already been made, not even bothering to improve them, just mimicking them. He was twenty-eight; his imagination had deserted him; he was a copyist.

但是本質上，他覺得最難為情的事情也是這個：不是他對性的貧乏知識，不是他背離自己的種族傾向，不是他無法脫離父母、自食其力、表現(xiàn)得像個獨立自主的人。而是當他和同事晚上加班時，大家都在深入探索自己心目中的夢幻結構、描繪或規(guī)劃那些不太可能實現(xiàn)的建筑物時，他卻什么也沒做。他已經失去想象的能力了。于是每天晚上，當其他人在創(chuàng)作時，他只是在抄襲：他畫出在旅途中看過的建筑物，以及其他人夢想并建造的建筑物，還有他住過或參觀過的建筑物。一次又一次，他只是去做別人已經做出來的東西，甚至懶得改善，只是模仿而已。他28歲了，他的想象力已經棄他而去，他只是個抄襲者。

　 It frightened him. JB had his series. Jude had his work, Willem had his. But what if Malcolm never again created anything? He longed for the years when it was enough to simply be in his room with his hand moving over a piece of graph paper, before the years of decisions and identities, when his parents made his choices for him, and the only thing he had to concentrate on was the clean blade stroke of a line, the ruler’s perfect knife edge.

這把他給嚇壞了。杰比有他的作品，裘德有他的工作，威廉也有他的夢想。如果馬爾科姆再也無法創(chuàng)造出任何東西呢？他好想回到童年時代，只要在自己的房間，在一張紙上畫畫就夠了。那時他不必做決定，不必管身份認同，他的父母會替他選擇。他唯一要專心做的，就是用手上的建筑角尺，畫出干凈利落的一條線。

　 3

　 IT WAS JB who decided that Willem and Jude should host a New Year’s Eve party at their apartment. This was resolved at Christmas, which was a three-part affair: Christmas Eve was held at JB’s mother’s place in Fort Greene, and Christmas dinner itself (a formal, organized event, at which suits and ties were required) was at Malcolm’s house, and succeeded a casual lunch at JB’s aunts’ house. They had always followed this ritual—four years ago, they had added Thanksgiving at Jude’s friends Harold and Julia’s house in Cambridge to the lineup—but New Year’s Eve had never been assigned. The previous year, the first post-school-life New Year’s that they had all been in the same city at the same time, they had all ended up separate and miserable—JB lodged at some lame party at Ezra’s, Malcolm stuck at his parents’ friends’ dinner uptown, Willem trapped by Findlay into a holiday shift at Ortolan, Jude mired in bed with the flu at Lispenard Street—and had resolved to actually make plans for the next year. But they hadn’t, and hadn’t, and then it was December and they still hadn’t done anything.

當初是杰比決定，威廉和裘德應該在他們的公寓辦新年派對。事情在圣誕假期間確定下來，而他們的圣誕假期分成三部分：平安夜去布魯克林格林堡的杰比母親家吃晚餐，次日去杰比的兩個阿姨家吃一頓輕松的午餐，然后圣誕節(jié)的晚餐（精心安排的正式晚餐，要穿西裝、打領帶）則是在馬爾科姆家。他們向來遵循這套老規(guī)矩，四年前，他們的規(guī)矩又加入了另一條：到波士頓北邊的劍橋市、裘德的朋友哈羅德和朱麗婭夫婦的房子過感恩節(jié)，但是跨年夜一直沒安排過。前一年是他們離開校園且同時在同一個城市度過的第一個新年，四個人各自過節(jié)，結果都過得很悲慘。杰比被困在埃茲拉家一個很遜的派對上，馬爾科姆被抓去參加父母朋友在上城的一個晚宴，威廉被芬德利排在了奧爾托蘭餐廳值班，裘德則因為流行性感冒躺在利斯本納街的公寓床上。于是他們打定主意來年要一起跨年，可是一直沒安排，拖了又拖，到了十二月還是什么節(jié)目也沒有。

　 So they didn’t mind JB deciding for them, not in this case. They figured they could accommodate twenty-five people comfortably, or forty uncomfortably. “So make it forty,” said JB, promptly, as they’d known he would, but later, back at their apartment, they wrote up a list of just twenty, and only their and Malcolm’s friends, knowing that JB would invite more people than were allotted him, extending invitations to friends and friends of friends and not-even friends and colleagues and bartenders and shop clerks, until the place grew so dense with bodies that they could open all the windows to the night air and still not dispel the fog of heat and smoke that would inevitably accumulate.

所以這一回，他們不介意杰比替大家做決定。他們估計這間公寓可以舒服地容納二十五人，但四十人就不太舒適了?！澳蔷脱氖税伞！苯鼙群芸炀驼f，其他三人也早就料到。但稍后威廉和裘德回到公寓后，擬了一份只有二十人的客人名單，只有他們兩個和馬爾科姆的朋友，因為他們知道杰比會邀請超過他配額的客人，不止朋友，還有朋友的朋友，甚至延伸到不是朋友的同事和酒保、店員，最后會把整個地方擠得滿滿的，就算把所有窗子都打開，也無法驅散里頭的熱氣和煙霧。

　 “Don’t make this complicated,” was the other thing JB had said, but Willem and Malcolm knew that was a caution meant solely for Jude, who had a tendency to make things more elaborate than was necessary, to spend nights making batches of gougères when everyone would have been content with pizza, to actually clean the place beforehand, as if anyone would care if the floors were crunchy with grit and the sink was scummed with dried soap stains and flecks of previous days’ breakfasts.

“不要搞得太復雜。”這是杰比說的另一件事，但威廉和馬爾科姆知道這個警告只針對裘德，他總是做沒必要的精心安排：比如花好幾個晚上做一大堆法式咸味奶酪泡芙，但其實大家吃披薩就很高興了；比如事先打掃公寓，但根本沒人在乎地板上有小沙礫，或水槽里有干掉的肥皂痕和幾天前的早餐碎屑。

　 The night before the party was unseasonably warm, warm enough that Willem walked the two miles from Ortolan to the apartment, which was so thick with its rich butter scents of cheese and dough and fennel that it made him feel he had never left work at all. He stood in the kitchen for a while, pinching the little tumoric blobs of pastry off their cooling racks to keep them from sticking, looking at the stack of plastic containers with their herbed shortbreads and cornmeal gingersnaps and feeling slightly sad—the same sadness he felt when he noticed that Jude had cleaned after all—because he knew they would be devoured mindlessly, swallowed whole with beer, and that they would begin the New Year finding crumbs of those beautiful cookies everywhere, trampled and stamped into the tiles. In the bedroom, Jude was already asleep, and the window was cracked open, and the heavy air made Willem dream of spring, and trees afuzz with yellow flowers, and a flock of blackbirds, their wings lacquered as if with oil, gliding soundlessly across a sea-colored sky.

派對的前一天晚上，天氣異常溫暖，暖得威廉從奧爾托蘭餐廳走了兩英里路[1]回公寓時，發(fā)現(xiàn)里頭充滿奶酪、面團、茴香加上奶油的濃郁氣味，搞得他覺得自己好像還在餐廳里工作。他站在廚房里好一會兒，把那些酥皮面團小球一個個從冷卻架上拿起又放下，免得變黏，然后看著一堆塑料保鮮盒，里頭是玉米粉姜餅和加了香草植物的蘇格蘭奶油厚酥餅，覺得有點難過（就像他發(fā)現(xiàn)裘德最后還是打掃過公寓的那種難過）。因為他知道大家會漫不經心地狼吞虎咽，把這些食物配著啤酒吞下肚，然后新的一年開始，他們會發(fā)現(xiàn)到處都是那些漂亮餅干的碎屑，被踩了又踩，嵌進了瓷磚縫隙里。在臥室里，裘德已經睡著了，威廉把窗子推開，自己也睡下。那濃重的空氣讓威廉夢到春天，樹上開著成簇的黃花，還有一群翅膀油亮的黑鳥，無聲地飛過一片海藍色的天空。

　 When he woke, though, the weather had turned again, and it took him a moment to realize that he had been shivering, and that the sounds in his dream had been of wind, and that he was being shaken awake, and that his name was being repeated, not by birds but by a human voice: “Willem, Willem.”

但他醒來時，天氣已經再度轉變了，他還迷糊了一會兒，才發(fā)現(xiàn)自己在發(fā)抖。他夢中的那個聲音是風聲，原來他是凍醒的，同時有個聲音一直在重復，不是鳥叫，而是人聲：“威廉，威廉?！?

　 He turned over and propped himself up on his elbows, but was able to register Jude only in segments: his face first, and then the fact that he was holding his left arm before him with his right hand, and that he had cocooned it with something—his towel, he realized—which was so white in the gloom that it seemed a source of light itself, and he stared at it, transfixed.

他翻身，雙肘撐起身體，不過只能一點一點認出裘德：先是他的臉，然后發(fā)現(xiàn)他的右手抓著被毛巾層層包住的左手臂。在昏暗的光線中，那毛巾好白，白得就像會發(fā)光，他呆呆地瞪著那毛巾看。

　 “Willem, I’m sorry,” said Jude, and his voice was so calm that for a few seconds, he thought it was a dream, and stopped listening, and Jude had to repeat himself. “There’s been an accident, Willem; I’m sorry. I need you to take me to Andy’s.”

“威廉，對不起?！濒玫抡f，他的聲音很冷靜，因而有幾秒鐘，威廉以為那只是個夢，根本沒專心聽。裘德不得不重復好幾次：“威廉，發(fā)生了意外。對不起，我需要你陪我去安迪那里?！?

　 Finally he woke. “What kind of accident?”

最后他終于醒了：“什么意外？”

　 “I cut myself. It was an accident.” He paused. “Will you take me?”

“我割傷自己了。不小心的?！彼麜和Ｒ幌拢澳憧梢耘阄胰?？”

　 “Yeah, of course,” he said, but he was still confused, still asleep, and it was without understanding that he fumblingly dressed, and joined Jude in the hallway, where he was waiting, and then walked with him up to Canal, where he turned for the subway before Jude pulled him back: “I think we need a cab.”

“可以，當然可以。”他說，但他還是很困惑，沒完全蘇醒，于是糊里糊涂地摸索著穿好衣服，到走廊跟裘德會合。他們兩人一起走到堅尼路，當他轉彎正要走向地鐵站時，裘德把他拉回來：“我們應該搭出租車?！?

　 In the taxi—Jude giving the driver the address in that same crushed, muted voice—he at last gave in to consciousness, and saw that Jude was still holding the towel. “Why did you bring your towel?” he asked.

上了出租車，裘德用同樣虛弱無力的聲音把地址告訴司機，威廉整個人終于清醒了，看到裘德依然握著那條毛巾：“你為什么要帶毛巾？”

　 “I told you—I cut myself.”

“我跟你說過，我割傷自己了?！?

　 “But—is it bad?”

“可是——嚴重嗎？”

　 Jude shrugged, and Willem noticed for the first time that his lips had gone a strange color, a not-color, although maybe that was the streetlights, which slapped and slid across his face, bruising it yellow and ocher and a sickly larval white as the cab pushed north. Jude leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, and it was then that Willem felt the beginnings of nausea, of fear, although he was unable to articulate why, only that he was in a cab heading uptown and something had happened, and he didn’t know what but that it was something bad, that he wasn’t comprehending something important and vital, and that the damp warmth of a few hours ago had vanished and the world had reverted to its icy harshness, its raw end-of-year cruelty.

裘德聳聳肩，威廉這才頭一次注意到他的雙唇變成了一種奇怪的顏色，像是沒有顏色?；蛟S是路燈的關系，隨著出租車往北行駛，燈光迅速掠過裘德的臉，將它染成一塊塊黃色、赭色和病態(tài)的蠕蟲白。裘德的頭靠向車窗，閉上眼睛。此時威廉才開始覺得反胃又害怕，雖然他講不清為什么，只知道出租車正往上城方向開，而且出了事情；他不知道是什么事，只知道是重大且性命攸關的。幾小時前的潮濕溫暖消失了，整個世界又充滿原先那種刺骨的寒意，那種年底的陰冷嚴酷。

　 Andy’s office was on Seventy-eighth and Park, near Malcolm’s parents’ house, and it was only once they were inside, in the true light, that Willem saw that the dark pattern on Jude’s shirt was blood, and that the towel had become sticky with it, almost varnished, its tiny loops of cotton matted down like wet fur. “I’m sorry,” Jude said to Andy, who had opened the door to let them in, and when Andy unwrapped the towel, all Willem saw was what looked like a choking of blood, as if Jude’s arm had grown a mouth and was vomiting blood from it, and with such avidity that it was forming little frothy bubbles that popped and spat as if in excitement.

安迪的診所位于78街和公園大道交叉口，離馬爾科姆父母的房子很近。他們一進門，在里面的燈光下，威廉才看到裘德襯衫上的深色花樣原來是血，而且毛巾已經被血染得黏黏的，幾乎發(fā)亮，上頭的小棉線圈像濕毛皮般盤結成團?！皩Σ黄稹！濒玫聦﹂_門讓他們進去的安迪說。等安迪把毛巾拿開，威廉只看到多得嚇人的血，仿佛裘德的手臂上生出一張嘴，不斷吐出血來，同時那涌出的鮮血形成一堆小泡沫，不斷破碎噴濺，好像處于興奮狀態(tài)。

　 “Jesus fucking Christ, Jude,” said Andy, and steered him back to the examining room, and Willem sat down to wait. Oh god, he thought, oh god. But it was as if his mind was a bit of machinery caught uselessly in a groove, and he couldn’t think beyond those two words. It was too bright in the waiting room, and he tried to relax, but he couldn’t for the phrase beating its rhythm like a heartbeat, thudding through his body like a second pulse: Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

“他媽的老天啊，裘德?！卑驳险f，帶他到后頭的檢查室，威廉則坐下來等。啊老天，他心想，啊老天。但他的腦袋仿佛有點機械故障，在同樣的軌道上不斷空轉，害他想不出其他字句。等候室太亮了，他設法放松，但是沒辦法。“啊老天”有如心跳般不斷敲打出自己的節(jié)奏，像是另一種脈搏穿透他全身。

　 He waited a long hour before Andy called his name. Andy was eight years older than he, and they had known him since their sophomore year, when Jude had had an episode so sustained that the three of them had finally decided to take him to the hospital connected with the university, where Andy had been the resident on call. He had been the only doctor Jude agreed to see again, and now, even though Andy was an orthopedic surgeon, he still treated Jude for anything that went wrong, from his back to his legs to flu and colds. They all liked Andy, and trusted him, too.

他等了漫長的一小時才聽到安迪喊他的名字。安迪比他大八歲，他們大二時就認識他了。當時裘德因為疼痛發(fā)作得太嚴重，痛了很久，他們三個人決定帶他去學校旁邊的那家醫(yī)院，安迪當時是待命的住院醫(yī)師。后來裘德只肯讓他看診，直到現(xiàn)在，即使安迪開了整形外科診所，只要裘德有什么不舒服，他還是會幫裘德診療，從背部、兩腿到流感、風寒。他們都很喜歡安迪，也很信賴他。