《渺小一生》:“你是我的導(dǎo)師?！?/h1>
“Who are you?” Lucien asks.
“你是誰(shuí)？”呂西安問(wèn)。
“Jude,” he says.
“裘德。”他說(shuō)。
“Now, remind me,” Lucien says, pleasantly, as if they’re meeting at a cocktail party, “how do I know you?”
“那么，提醒我一下，”呂西安愉快地說(shuō)，好像他們是在雞尾酒會(huì)上碰到的，“我是怎么認(rèn)識(shí)你的？”
“You were my mentor,” he tells him.
“你是我的導(dǎo)師?！濒玫赂嬖V他。
“Ah,” says Lucien. And then there is a silence.
“啊?！眳挝靼矐?yīng)了一聲，之后便陷入沉默。
In the first weeks, he tried to make Lucien remember his own life: he talked about Rosen Pritchard, and about people they knew, and cases they used to argue about. But then he realized that the expression he had mistaken—in his own stupid hopefulness—for thoughtfulness was in reality fear. And so now he discusses nothing from the past, or nothing from their past together, at least. He lets Lucien direct the conversation, and although he doesn’t understand the references Lucien makes, he smiles and tries to pretend he does.
頭幾個(gè)星期，他設(shè)法讓呂西安想起以前的人生：他會(huì)談起羅森·普理查德律師事務(wù)所，談起他們認(rèn)識(shí)的人，還有他們老在爭(zhēng)辯的那些案子。但接下來(lái)他才明白，他自己愚蠢地抱著希望，一直誤解呂西安臉上的表情，他本來(lái)以為那個(gè)表情是思索，但其實(shí)是害怕。于是現(xiàn)在他不會(huì)跟呂西安介紹過(guò)去，或至少是他們共同的過(guò)去。他改讓呂西安引導(dǎo)談話，盡管他不明白呂西安提到的一些事情，他還是保持微笑，設(shè)法假裝他知道。
“Who are you?” Lucien asks.
“你是誰(shuí)？”呂西安問(wèn)。
“Jude,” he says.
“裘德?！彼f(shuō)。
“Now, tell me, how do I know you?”
“那么，提醒我一下，我是怎么認(rèn)識(shí)你的？”
“You were my mentor.”
“你是我的導(dǎo)師?！?
“Oh, at Groton!”
“啊，在格羅頓！”
“Yes,” he says, trying to smile back. “At Groton.”
“是的?！彼f(shuō)，設(shè)法微笑?！霸诟窳_頓?！?
Sometimes, though, Lucien looks at him. “Mentor?” he says. “I’m too young to be your mentor!” Or sometimes he doesn’t ask at all, simply begins a conversation in its middle, and he has to wait until he has enough clues and can determine what role he has been assigned—one of his daughters’ long-ago boyfriends, or a college classmate, or a friend at the country club—before he can respond appropriately.
不過(guò)有時(shí)候，呂西安會(huì)看著他?！皩?dǎo)師？”他說(shuō)，“我太年輕了，沒(méi)辦法當(dāng)你的導(dǎo)師！”有時(shí)候呂西安什么都不問(wèn)，只是兀自沒(méi)頭沒(méi)尾地說(shuō)起話，他得等到有夠多的線索，才能判定自己被指派的角色并適當(dāng)?shù)仨憫?yīng)，可能是呂西安某個(gè)女兒很久以前的男朋友，或是一個(gè)大學(xué)同學(xué)、在鄉(xiāng)村俱樂(lè)部的朋友。
In these hours he learns more about Lucien’s earlier life than Lucien had ever revealed to him before. Although Lucien is no longer Lucien, at least not the Lucien he knew. This Lucien is vague and featureless; he is as smooth and cornerless as an egg. Even his voice, that droll croaking roll with which Lucien used to deliver his sentences, each one a statement, the pause he used to leave between them because he had grown so used to people’s laughter; the particular way he had of structuring his paragraphs, beginning and ending each with a joke that wasn’t really a joke, but an insult cloaked in a silken cape, is different. Even when they were working together, he knew that the Lucien of the office was not the Lucien of the country club, but he never saw that other Lucien. And now, finally, he has, he does; it is the only person he sees. This Lucien talks about the weather, and golf, and sailing, and taxes, but the tax laws he discusses are from twenty years ago. He never asks him anything about himself: who he is, what he does, why he is sometimes in a wheelchair. Lucien talks, and he smiles and nods back at him, wrapping his hands around his cooling cup of tea. When Lucien’s hands tremble, he takes them in his own, which he knows helps him when his hands shake: Willem used to do this, and breathe with him, and it would always calm him. When Lucien drools, he takes the edge of his napkin and blots the saliva away. Unlike him, however, Lucien doesn’t seem embarrassed by his own shaking and drooling, and he is relieved that he doesn’t. He’s not embarrassed for Lucien, either, but he is embarrassed by his inability to do more for him.
在這些探訪時(shí)間里，他得以了解許多呂西安的早年生活，超過(guò)了他中風(fēng)前曾透露過(guò)的。呂西安不再是他原來(lái)認(rèn)識(shí)的那個(gè)人。眼前的這個(gè)呂西安糊涂而平凡，整個(gè)人毫無(wú)棱角，平和得像個(gè)雞蛋。就連聲音也不同了，沒(méi)了以往那種滑稽的低沉沙啞，以及總是暫停、等眾人大笑完的習(xí)慣；他特有的組織句子的方式，每一段前后都會(huì)夾一個(gè)笑話，但其實(shí)不是笑話，而是披著笑話外衣的侮辱，這些也全不一樣了。早在他們當(dāng)年一起工作的時(shí)候，他就知道辦公室里的呂西安跟鄉(xiāng)村俱樂(lè)部里的呂西安不一樣，但他從來(lái)沒(méi)看過(guò)另一個(gè)呂西安?，F(xiàn)在，終于，他看到了；因?yàn)楝F(xiàn)在只有一個(gè)呂西安。這個(gè)呂西安會(huì)聊天氣、高爾夫、駕駛帆船，還有稅，不過(guò)他討論的稅法是二十年前的。這個(gè)呂西安從來(lái)不問(wèn)他的事情：他是什么樣的人、做什么工作、為什么有時(shí)候他會(huì)坐輪椅。呂西安講話時(shí)，他就聽(tīng)著微笑點(diǎn)頭，雙手握著那杯逐漸變涼的茶。當(dāng)呂西安雙手顫抖時(shí)，他會(huì)伸手過(guò)去，把他的雙手握在自己手里。他知道這樣對(duì)自己有用：以前威廉都會(huì)握住他的雙手，跟著他一起呼吸，讓他平靜下來(lái)。呂西安流口水時(shí)，他會(huì)掏出自己的手帕，擦掉那些口水。然而跟他不一樣的是，呂西安對(duì)于自己顫抖或流口水并不感到難為情，這讓他松了一口氣。他也不會(huì)替呂西安覺(jué)得難為情，只會(huì)因?yàn)樽约簺](méi)有能力做更多而難為情。
“He loves seeing you, Jude,” Meredith always says, but he doesn’t think this is true, really. He sometimes thinks he continues to come more for Meredith’s sake than for Lucien’s, and he realizes that this is the way it is, the way it must be: you don’t visit the lost, you visit the people who search for the lost. Lucien is not conscious of this, but he can remember being so when he was sick, both the first time and the second, and Willem was taking care of him. How grateful he was when he would wake and find someone other than Willem sitting next to him. “Roman’s with him,” Richard or Malcolm would say, or “He and JB went out for lunch,” and he’d relax. In the weeks after his amputations, when all he wanted to do was give up, those moments in which he could imagine that Willem might be being comforted were his only moments of happiness. And so he sits with Meredith after sitting with Lucien and they talk, although she too asks him nothing about his life, and this is fine with him. She is lonely; he is lonely, too. She and Lucien have two daughters, one of whom lives in New York but is forever going in and out of rehab; the other lives in Philadelphia with her husband and three children and is a lawyer herself.
“裘德，他很喜歡看到你?！泵啡鸬辖z總是這么說(shuō)，但他不認(rèn)為是這樣。他有時(shí)覺(jué)得自己持續(xù)去探望是為了梅瑞迪絲，不是呂西安，而且他明白本來(lái)就是這樣，一定是這樣：你不是去拜訪失蹤的人，而是去拜訪那些尋找失蹤者的人。呂西安沒(méi)有意識(shí)到這點(diǎn)，但他還記得自己兩次生病住院，威廉照顧他的情景。每回他醒來(lái)發(fā)現(xiàn)旁邊坐的不是威廉，他就很高興?！傲_蒙跟他在一起?！崩聿榈禄蝰R爾科姆會(huì)說(shuō)，或者，“他和杰比出去吃午餐了?！比缓笏蜁?huì)放松下來(lái)。他截肢后那幾個(gè)星期，一心只想放棄，只有威廉不在時(shí)，他想象著威廉此刻有人安慰，那是他當(dāng)時(shí)唯一快樂(lè)的時(shí)刻。于是他陪過(guò)呂西安之后，也會(huì)陪梅瑞迪絲坐一會(huì)兒，兩人聊聊天，不過(guò)她不會(huì)問(wèn)起他的生活，他也覺(jué)得這樣很好。她孤單一人；他也孤單一人。她和呂西安生了兩個(gè)女兒，其中一個(gè)住在紐約，但長(zhǎng)年進(jìn)出戒毒所；另一個(gè)跟先生和三個(gè)小孩住在費(fèi)城，也是個(gè)律師。
He has met both of these daughters, who are a decade or so younger than he is, although Lucien is Harold’s age. When he went to visit Lucien in the hospital, the older of them, the one who lives in New York, had looked at him with such hatred that he had almost stepped back, and then had said to her sister, “Oh, and look who it is: Daddy’s pet. What a surprise.”
他見(jiàn)過(guò)這兩個(gè)女兒，都比他年輕十來(lái)歲，但其實(shí)呂西安跟哈羅德同齡。他去醫(yī)院看呂西安時(shí)，他們住在紐約的長(zhǎng)女用充滿恨意的眼光看著他，看得他簡(jiǎn)直要后退，然后那長(zhǎng)女跟妹妹說(shuō)：“啊，看看誰(shuí)來(lái)了：老爸的寵物。真想不到啊?！?
“Grow up, Portia,” the younger one had hissed. To him she said, “Jude, thanks for coming. I’m so sorry about Willem.”
“波西亞，少幼稚了?！彼妹脷夂艉舻氐吐暤?，然后對(duì)他說(shuō)，“裘德，謝謝你過(guò)來(lái)。威廉的事情我很遺憾?！?
“Thank you for coming, Jude,” Meredith says now, kissing him goodbye. “I’ll see you soon?” She always asks this, as if he might someday tell her she won’t.
“謝謝你來(lái)，裘德，”這會(huì)兒梅瑞迪絲說(shuō)，跟他吻頰道別，“很快就能再看到你了吧？”她總是這么問(wèn)，好像有一天他會(huì)跟她說(shuō)不會(huì)。
“Yes,” he says. “I’ll e-mail you.”
“是的，”他說(shuō)，“我會(huì)再寫(xiě)電子郵件給你。”
“Do,” she says, and waves as he walks down the hall toward the elevator. He always has the sense that no one else visits, and yet how can that be? Don’t let that be, he pleads. Meredith and Lucien have always had lots of friends. They threw dinner parties. It wasn’t unusual to see Lucien leaving the offices in black tie, rolling his eyes as he waved goodbye to him. “Benefit,” he’d say as an explanation. “Party.” “Wedding.” “Dinner.”
“那就麻煩你了?！彼f(shuō)，然后揮揮手看著他走向電梯。他總有種感覺(jué)，好像都沒(méi)有其他人來(lái)拜訪，但怎么可能呢？拜托不要是這樣，他心里懇求著。梅瑞迪絲和呂西安向來(lái)有很多朋友，常常舉辦晚宴。以前在事務(wù)所里，他們時(shí)不時(shí)就會(huì)看到呂西安打著黑色領(lǐng)結(jié)、一身正式禮服準(zhǔn)備離開(kāi)辦公室，同時(shí)翻著白眼朝他們揮手道別?！按壬仆頃?huì)，”他會(huì)解釋，“派對(duì)?！薄盎槎Y?！薄巴硌?。”
