高級英語 Advanced English(張漢熙) 第二冊 12.The Discovery of What

The Discovery of What It Means to Be an American

James Baldwin

1 “It is a complex fate to be an American,” Henry James observed, and the principal discovery an American writer makes in Europe is just how complex this fate is. America’s history, her aspirations, her peculiar triumphs, her even more peculiar defeats, and her position in the world – yesterday and today – are all so profoundly and stubbornly unique that the very word “America” remains a new, almost completely undefined and extremely controversial proper noun. No one in the world seems to know exactly what it describes, not even we motley millions who call ourselves Americans.

2 I left America because I doubted my ability to survive the fury of the color problem here. (Sometimes I still do.) I wanted to prevent myself from becoming merely a Negro; or even, merely a Negro writer. I wanted to find out in what way the specialness of my experience could be made to connect me with other people instead of dividing me from them. (I was as isolated from Negroes as I was from whites, which is what happens when a Negro begins, at bottom, to believe what white people say about him.)

3 In my necessity to find the terms on which my experience could be related to that of others, Negroes and whites, writers and non-writers, I proved, to my astonishment, to be as American as any Texas G. I. And I found my experience was shared by every American writer I knew in Paris. Like me, they had been divorced from their origins, and it turned out to make very little difference that the origins of white Americans were European and mine were African – they were no more at home in Europe than I was.

4 The fact that I was the son of a slave and they were the sons of free men meant less, by the time we confronted each other on Europe soil, than the fact that we were both searching for our separate identities. When we had found these, we seemed to be saying, why, then, we would no longer need to cling to the shame and bitterness which had divided us so long.

5 It became terribly clear in Europe, as it never had been here, that we knew more about each other than any European ever could. And it also became clear that, no matter where our fathers had been born, or what they had endured, the fact of Europe had formed us both, was part of our identity and part of our inheritance.

6 I had been in Paris a couple of years before any of this became clear to me. When it did, I like many a writer before me upon the discovery that his props have all been knocked out from under him, suffered a species of breakdown and was carried off to the mountains of Switzerland, There, in that absolutely Hiroshima landscape, armed with two Bessie Smith records and a typewriter I began to try to recreate the life that I had first known as a child and from which I had spent so many years in flight.

7 It was Bessie Smith, through her tone and her cadence, who helped me to dig back to the way I myself must have spoken when I was a pickaninny, and to remember the things I had never listened to Bessie Smith in America (in the same way that, for years, I would not touch watermelon), but in Europe she helped to reconcile me to being a “nigger”.

8 I do not think that I could have made this reconciliation here. Once I was able to accept my role – as distinguished, I must say, from my “place”—in the extraordinary drama which is America, I was released from the illusion that I hated America.

9 The story of what can happen to an American Negro writer in Europe simply illustrates, in some relief, what can happen to any American writer there. It is not meant, of course, to imply that it happens to them all, for Europe can be very crippling too; and, anyway, a writer, when he has made his first breakthrough, has simply won a crucial skirmish in a dangerous, unending and unpredictable battle still, the breakthrough is important, and the point is that an American writer, in order to achieve it, very often has to leave this country.

10 The American writer, in Europe, is released, first of all, from the necessity of apologizing for himself. It is not until he is released from the habit of flexing his muscles and proving that he is just a “regular guy” that he realizes how crippling this habit has been. It is not necessary for him, there, to pretend to be something he is not, for the artist does not encounter in Europe the same suspicion he encounters here. Whatever the Europeans may actually think of artists, they have killed enough of them off by now to know that they are as real – and as persistent – as rain, snow, taxes or businessmen.

11 Of course, the reason for Europe’s comparative clarity concerning the different functions of men in society is that European society has always been divided into classes in a way that American society never has been. A European writer considers himself to be part of an old and honorable tradition – of intellectual activity, of letters – and his choice of a vocation does not cause him any uneasy wonder as to whether or not it will cost him all his friends. But this tradition does not exist in America.

12 On the contrary, we have a very deep-seated distrust of real intellectual effort (probably because we suspect that it will destroy, as I hope it does, that myth of America to which we cling so desperately). An American writer fights his way to one of the lowest rungs on the American social ladder by means of pure bull-headednessand an indescribable series of odd jobs. He probably has been a “regular fellow” for much of his adult life, and it is not easy for him to step out of that lukewarm bath.

13 We must, however, consider a rather serious paradox ; though American society is more mobile than Europe’s, it is easier to cut across social and occupational lines there than it is here. This has something to do, I think, with the problem of status in American life. Where everyone has status, it is also perfectly possible, after all, that no one has. It seems inevitable, in any case, that a man may become uneasy as to just what his status is.

14 But Europeans have lived with the idea of status for a long time. A man can be as proud of being a good waiter as of being a good actor, and in neither case feel threatened. And this means that the actor and the waiter can have a freer and more genuinely friendly relationship in Europe than they are likely to have here. The waiter does not feel, with obscure resentment, that the actor has “made it,” and the actor is not tormented by the fear that he may find himself, tomorrow, once again a waiter.

15 This lack of what may roughly be called social paranoia causes the American writer in Europe to feel – almost certainly for the first time in his life – that he can reach out to everyone, that he is accessible to everyone and open to everything. This is an extraordinary feeling. He feels, so to speak, his own weight, his own value.

16 It is as though he suddenly came out of a dark tunnel and found himself beneath the open sky. And, in fact, in Paris, I began to see the sky for what seemed to be the first time. It was borne in on me – and it did not make me feel melancholy – that this sky had been there before I was born and would be there when I was dead. And it was up to me, therefore, to make of my brief opportunity the most that could be made.

17 I was born in New York, but have lived only in pockets of it. In Paris, I lived in all parts of the city – on the Right bank and the Left, among the bourgeoisie and among les miserables, and knew all kinds of people, from pimps and prostitutes in Pigalle to Egyptian bankers in Neuilly. This may sound extremely unprincipled or even obscurely immoral: I found it healthy. I love to talk to people, all kinds of people, and almost everyone, as I hope we still know, loves a man who loves to listen.

18 This perpetual dealing with people very different from myself caused a shattering in me of preconceptions I scarcely knew I held. The writer is meeting in Europe people who are not American, whose sense of reality is entirely different from his own. They may love or hate or admire or fear or envy this country – they see it, in any case, from another point of view, and this forces the writer to reconsider many things he had always taken for granted. This reassessment, which can be very painful, is also very valuable.

19 This freedom, like all freedom, has its dangers and its responsibilities. One day it begins to be borne in on the writer, and with great force, that he is living in Europe as an American. If he were living there as a European, he would be living on a different and far less attractive continent.

20 This crucial day may be the day on which an Algerian taxi-driver tells him how it feels to be an Algerian in Paris. It ma, y b, e, the d, ay on , which he passes a café terrace and catches a gl, i, mpse , of the tense, intelligent and troubled face of Albert Camus. Or it may be the day on which someone asks him to explain Little Rock and he begins to feel that it would be simpler – and, corny as the words may sound, more honorable – to go to Little Rock than sit in Europe, on an American passport, trying to explain it.

<, /FONT>, 21 This is a personal day, a terrible day, the day to which his entire sojournhas been tending. It is the day he realizes that there are no untroubled countries in this fearfully troubled world; that if he has been preparing himself for anything in Europe, he had been preparing himself – for America. In short, the freedom that the American writer finds in Europe brings him, full circle, back to himself, with the responsibility for his development where it always was: in his own hands.

22 Even the most incorrigible maverick has to be born somewhere. He may leave the group that produced him – he may be forced to – but nothing will efface his origins, the marks of which he carries with him everywhere. I think it is important to know this and even find it a matter for rejoicing, as the strongest people do, regardless of their station. On this acceptance, literally , the life of a writer depends.

23 The charge has often been made against American writers that they do not describe society, and have no interest in it. They only describe individuals in opposition to it, or isolated from it. Of course, what the American writer is describing is his own situation. But what is Anna Karenina describing if not the tragic fate of the isolated individual, at odds with her time and place?

24 The real difference is that Tolstoy was describing an old and dense society in which everything seemed –to the people in it, though not to Tolstoy – to be fixed forever. And the book is a masterpiece because Tolstoy was able to fathom , and make us see, the hidden laws which really governed this society and made Anna’s doom inevitable.

25 American writers do not have a fixed society to describe. The only society they know is one in which nothing is fixed and in which the individual must fight for his identity. This is a rich confusion, indeed, and it creates for the American writer unprecedented opportunities.

26 That the tension of American life, as well as the possibilities, are tremendous is certainly not even a question. But these are dealt with in contemporary literature mainly compulsively ; that is, the book is more likely to be a symptom of our tension than an examination of it. The time has come, God knows, for us to examine ourselves, but we can only do this if we are willing to free ourselves of the myth of America and try to find out what is really happening here.

27 Every society is really governed by hidden laws, by unspoken but profound assumptions on the part of the people, and ours is no exception. It is up to the American writer to find out what these laws and assumptions are. In a society much given to smashing taboos without thereby managing to be liberated from them, it will be no easy matter.

28 It is no wonder, in the meantime, that the American writer keeps running off to Europe. He needs sustenance for his journey and the best models he can find. Europe has what we do not have yet, a sense of the mysterious and inexorable limits of life, a sense, in a word, of tragedy. And we have what they sorely need: a new sense of life’s possibilities.

29 In this endeavor to wed the vision of the Old World with that of the New, it is the writer, not the statesman, who is our strongest arm. Though we do not wholly believe it yet, the interior life is a real life, and the intangible dreams of people have a tangible effect on the world.

第十二課一個發(fā)現(xiàn)：做一個美國人意味著什么

詹姆斯鮑德溫

亨利詹姆斯曾經(jīng)說過，"身為一個美國人是一種復(fù)雜玄妙的命運(yùn)。"而一位作家在歐洲作出的最重大的發(fā)現(xiàn)就是這種命運(yùn)究竟復(fù)雜到何種程度。美國的歷史，其遠(yuǎn)大志向，其不同凡響的輝煌成就，還有她那更加不同凡響的挫折失敗。以及她在世界上的地位--不論是過去還是現(xiàn)在…都是那么深不可測而又無可更改地獨(dú)一無二，以至于"美國"這個詞至今仍是一個陌生的、幾乎可以說是完全沒有明確定義的、且具有極大爭議性的專有名詞。世界上似乎還沒有人確切地知道這個詞的含義，就連我們這些五顏六色、千千萬萬自稱為美國人的人也不例外。

我當(dāng)初離開美國是因?yàn)槲以鴳岩勺约耗芊窠?jīng)受住這兒的有色人種問題的狂風(fēng)暴雨的沖擊。(現(xiàn)在我仍然時不時地這樣懷疑。)我想使自己不至于僅僅成為一個黑人，或是僅僅只成為一個黑人作家。我想尋求一種什么途徑。來使自己的生活經(jīng)歷的特殊性把自己與他人聯(lián)系起來而不是分離開來。(我同黑人之間也產(chǎn)生了隔閡，就像我同白人之間的隔閡一樣嚴(yán)重，當(dāng)一個黑人開始真正地相信白人對黑人的評價時，常常就會發(fā)生這樣的情況。)

在我認(rèn)為有必要去尋求一種能把我的生活經(jīng)歷同別的人一一黑人和白人，作家和非作家--的生活經(jīng)歷聯(lián)系起來的途徑的過程中，我驚奇地發(fā)現(xiàn)：自己原來也同任何得克薩斯州士兵一樣，是非常愛國的美國人。而且我發(fā)現(xiàn)，我在巴黎所認(rèn)識的每一位美國作家都有我這種感受。他們都同我一樣脫離了自己的本源，而且事實(shí)證明，這些美國白人的歐洲本源同我的非洲本源競沒有多少差別--他們在歐洲也像我一樣感到不自在。

我是奴隸的后代，而他們是自由人的子孫，這種差異則無關(guān)緊要。因?yàn)槲覀冊跉W洲大地上相遇時，都在努力探求著各自的自我價值。當(dāng)我們終于發(fā)現(xiàn)各自的自我價值之后，我們似乎都在感慨：這下可好啦，多少年來造成我們之間的隔閡的遺憾和痛苦之情，我們可再也不用死抱住不放了。

我們美國人彼此間的相互了解超過任何歐洲人所能達(dá)到的程度。這一點(diǎn)在本國不曾有人認(rèn)識到，但一到歐洲，我們便認(rèn)識得很清楚了。還有一點(diǎn)也顯得很清楚：不論我們的祖先源于何處，也不管他們曾有過什么樣的遭遇，我們美國黑人和白人都是歐洲造就出來的。這一事實(shí)就是我們的身分以及我們的遺傳特征的組成部分。

在我認(rèn)清這些之前，我在巴黎呆了兩三年的時間。待到認(rèn)清這些之后，我就像許多前輩作家發(fā)現(xiàn)他的生活支柱全部被人拆掉了一樣，遭受了一種精神崩潰的痛苦，不得不到瑞士的高山上去療養(yǎng)。在那一片晶瑩的雪山景色中。我以兩張貝西·史密斯的唱片和一臺打字機(jī)為工具，開始試圖把自己孩提時代最初體驗(yàn)到的，多年來又一直想盡力忘卻的生活經(jīng)歷再現(xiàn)出來。

是貝西·史密斯用她的音調(diào)和節(jié)拍幫我發(fā)掘出了當(dāng)我還是個黑人小孩時本就使用過的說話口吻，使我重新憶起了小時候的所聞、所見和所感。我已將這些深深藏在了心底。在美國。我從來不聽貝西·史密斯的歌(這與我多年不碰西瓜是同一道理)，但在歐洲，她卻使我體會到身為"黑鬼"并沒有什么不好。

我覺得自己在美國是體會不到這一點(diǎn)的。一旦我能夠接受自己在美國這出不同尋常的戲劇中所扮演的角色--應(yīng)該指出，這里說的角色是就我的"地位"而言--我便從仇恨美國的幻覺中清醒過來了。

一個美國黑人作家在歐洲所可能遇到的一切只是比較鮮明地顯示了任何一位美國作家在歐洲所可能遇到的情況。當(dāng)然這并不是說所有的人都會遇上同樣的情況，因?yàn)闅W洲也很有可能阻礙人的發(fā)展。不管怎么說，當(dāng)一個作家完成自己的第一次突破時，他只不過是在一次險象環(huán)生、曠日持久、勝負(fù)難料的戰(zhàn)役中打贏了一場有決定意義的小規(guī)模戰(zhàn)斗。雖則如此，第一次突破仍是很重要的，問題是一個美國作家要實(shí)現(xiàn)這一次突破，往往就必得離開自己的國家。

在歐洲，美國作家首先是不必為自己進(jìn)行辯護(hù)的。只有等到他擺脫了要靠屈伸肌肉亮出本領(lǐng)來證明自己是個"正常人"的習(xí)慣之后，他才會認(rèn)識到這一習(xí)慣是多么的有害。在歐洲，他不必裝模作樣地掩飾自己的本來面目，因?yàn)樗囆g(shù)家在那里不會像在美國一樣遭到懷疑。不論歐洲人對待藝術(shù)家的實(shí)際態(tài)度如何，他們所毀掉的藝術(shù)家已經(jīng)夠多的了，而現(xiàn)在他們終于認(rèn)識到藝術(shù)家就像雨、雪、稅收和商人一樣是真實(shí)存在，并且永遠(yuǎn)會存在的。

當(dāng)然，歐洲人之所以對于人們在社會中所起的不同作用有比較明確的概念，是因?yàn)闅W洲社會歷來就被劃分為不同的階層，而美國社會則從未這樣劃分過。歐洲作家把自己看作一種古老而光榮的傳統(tǒng)--文化活動或文學(xué)創(chuàng)作傳統(tǒng)--的一部分。在選擇這一職業(yè)時，他不用去顧慮自己是否會因此而失去所有的朋友。然而，美國卻沒有這樣一種傳統(tǒng)。

恰恰相反，我們美國人對于真正的文化活動持有一種根深蒂固的不信任態(tài)度(這大概是因?yàn)槿藗儞?dān)心文化活動會粉碎一一我倒希望如此一一我們死死抓住不放的美國神話)。一個美國作家必須憑著一股十足的牛勁拼命奮斗，并從事一系列難以形容的零工雜活才能勉強(qiáng)爬上美國社會階梯的最低一級。也許在他成年生活的大部分時間里，他一直在過著"正常人"的生活，要他從這個溫水浴池中跨出來，可實(shí)在有點(diǎn)不容易。

不過，我們還必須考慮一個相當(dāng)嚴(yán)重的怪現(xiàn)象：盡管美國社會提供給人們的改變社會地位的機(jī)會比歐洲多，但在歐洲人們卻比在美國更容易跨越社會和職業(yè)界線。我認(rèn)為，這同美國社會生活中的地位問題不無關(guān)系。在一個人人都有地位的地方，也完全可能沒有一個人真正有地位。因此，一個人會因?yàn)椴恢约旱匚蝗绾味鴳n心忡忡，這是無論如何都不可逃避的事實(shí)。

而歐洲人早已正確接受了地位觀念。一個人不論是當(dāng)個好堂倌還是好演員，都會同樣地為自己的地位而感到自豪，而且彼此之間也不會感到有任何威脅。這就意味著，在歐洲，一個演員和一個堂倌之間可以建立起比在美國更自由、更真誠的友誼。堂倌不會因演員的"成名得利"而感到絲毫的怨憤，演員也不用提心吊膽地害怕自己有朝一日會重新當(dāng)起堂倌。

由于消除了那種可以不那么準(zhǔn)確地稱之為社會偏執(zhí)狂的心理，在歐洲的美國作家開始覺得--幾乎可以肯定地說是平生第一次產(chǎn)生這種感覺一一他可以接近任何人，也歡迎任何人來接近他，而且也愿意同任何人談?wù)撊魏问?。這是一種很不尋常的感覺?？梢哉f，他感覺出了自身的分量和價值。

這就好比是他突然問從一條黑暗的隧道中走出，發(fā)現(xiàn)自己正置身于遼闊的天空之下。確確實(shí)實(shí)，我就是在巴黎才仿佛是第一次見到了天空。這使我深深地認(rèn)識到--但這并沒有使我憂傷…那天空在我出生前就已存在，而在我去世之后仍將存在。因此，如何盡可能地充分利用自己短暫的一生，就完全取決于我自己了。

我出生于紐約，但生活范圍只限于紐約的一些小角落，而在巴黎，我的生活足跡卻遍及全市的每一個角落--在右岸區(qū)和左岸區(qū)，在有錢的資產(chǎn)階級中間和"悲慘世界"里的窮人中間。我還結(jié)識了各式各樣的人物，從皮加葉區(qū)的老鴇和妓女到納伊區(qū)的埃及銀行家都接觸過。這聽起來可能很不正經(jīng)，甚至有點(diǎn)不道德，但我覺得這是正常的。我喜歡與人交談，與各種各樣的人交談，而幾乎每一個人--正如我所希望人們?nèi)匀幻靼椎?-都是喜歡愛聽人講話的人。

與這些跟我自己大不相同的人的不斷交往，破除了我思想上原先并沒有意識到的一些偏見。作者在歐洲遇見的一些人并不是美國人，他們對現(xiàn)實(shí)的感受同他本人的感受完全兩樣。對于美國這個國家，他們或是熱愛，或是憎恨，或是敬佩，或是畏懼，或是妒忌--反正他們是從另一個不同的角度來看待美國的，這就迫使作者對許多他原以為是理所當(dāng)然的事情重新加以考慮。這個重新認(rèn)識的過程是非常痛苦的，但也是很有價值的。

這種自由(指美國作家到歐洲后擺脫了原先的種種束縛和傳統(tǒng)觀念，等于獲得了某種自由一一譯者注)，像任何一種自由一樣，也帶來一些危險和責(zé)任?？傆幸惶?，在歐洲的美國作家會意識到，而且是強(qiáng)烈地意識到，他是作為一個美國人居住在歐洲的。倘若他是作為一個歐洲人居住在歐洲，那么，他所居住的這塊大陸在他心目中的地位就會大不一樣，其對他的吸引力也會大打折扣。

這個有決定性意義的一天，可能就是當(dāng)一個阿爾及利亞出租車司機(jī)對他講起作為一個阿爾及利亞人生活在巴黎有何種感受的那一天，也可能是他路過某一家露天小吃店的平臺，一眼瞥見艾伯特·加繆那張緊張、睿智而又苦悶的面孔的那一天，還有可能是有人請他講述一下小石城的事情的那一天。這時，他就會感覺到，與其拿著美國護(hù)照坐在歐洲向人們講述小石城的事情，倒不如親身投入到小石城的民主斗爭中去來得干脆--或者說光榮，盡管這個詞聽起來有些不新鮮。

這是他個人生活中有重大意義的一天，是可怕的一天，也是他的整個羈旅生涯目標(biāo)所向的一天。就是在這一天，他終于認(rèn)識到，在這個多災(zāi)多難的世界上并不存在什么太平樂土;如果說他一直在歐洲訓(xùn)練自己準(zhǔn)備承擔(dān)什么重任的話，他實(shí)際是在為美國而訓(xùn)練自己?？偠灾绹骷以跉W洲找到的自由，帶著他繞了整整一圈后，又回到了自己身邊。用其自身發(fā)展的責(zé)任把自己又帶回到了自由原本所在之處--他自己手中。

即使是一頭最不可救藥的迷途小牛也必有其降生地點(diǎn)。他也許會脫離那曾生養(yǎng)他的群體--或許是被迫如此一一但是，無論他走到哪里，他身上總會帶著他的出身標(biāo)志，這是無論如何也抹不掉的。我認(rèn)為了解這一點(diǎn)，甚至像那些最堅(jiān)強(qiáng)的人那樣，不論地位如何，能視之為樂事，是很重要的。說實(shí)在的，一個作家的命運(yùn)便取決于他對這一點(diǎn)能否接受。

人們常常指責(zé)美國作家們.說他們不描寫社會，對社會問題不感興趣。他們只喜歡描寫與社會對立的個人，或是與社會相脫離的個人。誠然，美國作家所描寫的是他個人的情況，但《安娜·卡列寧娜》中所描寫的，如果說不是那個與時代和社會格格不入的孤立個人的悲慘命運(yùn)，那又到底是什么呢?

真正的區(qū)別在于：托爾斯泰所描寫的是一個古老而結(jié)構(gòu)嚴(yán)密的社會，在那個社會中，一切事物--在該社會的成員看來，不過不包括托爾斯泰一一似乎都是一成不變的。這部著作之所以成為一部偉大作品是因?yàn)橥袪査固┠軌蛱剿鞒觯⑶沂刮覀兦宄乜吹揭恍撛诘囊?guī)律，這些規(guī)律對那個社會起著實(shí)際的支配作用并使安娜的悲慘結(jié)局成為必然之事。

美國作家并沒有一個一成不變的社會可供他們描寫。他們所了解的社會只是一個萬事皆變、人人為出人頭地而奮斗的社會。這確實(shí)是一個五彩繽紛、錯綜復(fù)雜的社會，它為美國作家提供了前所未有的創(chuàng)作機(jī)會。

美國生活的極度緊張和它提供的無限的發(fā)展機(jī)會已經(jīng)是盡人皆知、毫無疑問的事實(shí)了。但當(dāng)代文學(xué)作品中對這些問題的描寫卻很帶勉強(qiáng)性。也就是說，這些作品不是對我們社會中的緊張生活的深入分析，倒更像是這種緊張生活的直接反映。天曉得，現(xiàn)在該我們對自己進(jìn)行一番檢查的時候了。但如果我們要將自己從美國神話中解放出來，并設(shè)法弄清楚這個國家的現(xiàn)實(shí)情況究竟是怎樣的，我們也就只能這樣做。

每個社會其實(shí)都是由一些潛在的規(guī)律，由一些人們沒有說出來但卻深深感覺到并看作是理所當(dāng)然的事物所支配的，我們的社會也不例外。要弄清這些規(guī)律和事物，就要由美國作家來努力。在一個非常喜愛沖破禁忌卻又不能由此從中解脫出來的社會，要弄清這些，不會是一件容易的事。

難怪在此期間美國作家不斷跑到歐洲去。他的人生歷程需要精神食糧，他也需要可能找到的最好的模式。歐洲有著我們還沒有的東西，一種生活的神秘而又不可抗拒的極限感，一句話，一種悲劇感。而我們也有著他們十分需要的東西--一種認(rèn)為生活大有可為的新認(rèn)識。

在努力把舊世界的看法和新世界的看法結(jié)合起來的過程中，不是政治家，而是作家，是我們最強(qiáng)的一支力量。雖然我們迄今還未全信，可是內(nèi)心的生活確是真正的生活，而人們那種海市蜃樓般的夢幻卻對世界有著實(shí)實(shí)在在的影響。

(選自《沒有人知道我的名字》)

詞匯(Vocabulary)

controversial (adj.) : stirring up controversy;debatable引起爭論的

motley (adj.) : of many colors or patches of color;having or composed of many different or clashing elements：heterogeneous雜色的;斑雜的;混雜的，雜亂的

identity (n.) : the condition or fact of being a specific person or thing;individuality個性;個人的特征

prop (n.) : a rigid support，as a beam，stake，or pole，placed under or against a structure or part支柱;支持物;撐材

alabaster (n.) : a translucent，whitish，fine-grained variety of gypsum，used for statues，vases，etc.雪花石膏

cadence (n.) : inflection or modulation in tone;any rhythmic flow of sound聲音的抑揚(yáng)頓挫;聲調(diào);節(jié)奏

pickaninny (n.) : .a negro child黑人小孩

cripple (v.) : frustrate，hinder;make unable or unfit to act，function effectively，etc.使損傷;使喪失活動能力;使失去戰(zhàn)斗力;削弱

breakthrough (n.) : a strikingly important advance or discovery in any field of knowledge or activity突破;重大發(fā)現(xiàn);驚人進(jìn)展

skirmish (n.) : a brief fight or encounter between small groups，usually an incident of a battle：any slight。unimportant conflict;brush小規(guī)模戰(zhàn)斗;小沖突

rung (n.) : any of the crosspieces constituting the steps of a ladder梯級

lukewarm (n.) : (of liquids，etc.)barely or moderately warm(液體等)微溫的

paradox (n.) : a statement that seems contradictory，unbelievable.or absurd but that may actually be true in fact反論

paranoia (n.) : a mental disorder characterized by systematized delusions，as of grandeur，or，esp. ，persecution，often, except in a schizophrenic state，with an otherwise relatively intact personality妄想狂;偏執(zhí)狂

accessible (adj.) : easy to approach or enter易接近的;易進(jìn)去的

pocket (n.) : a small area or group of a specified type小塊地區(qū);凹地;小圈子

pimp (n.) : one who is an agent for a prostitute or prostitutes and lives off their earnings;procurer拉皮條的人;為妓女拉客的人;妓院老板

perpetual (adj.) : continuing indefinitely without interruption：unceasing;constant不斷的;重復(fù)不停的

preconception (n.) : bias or prejudice偏見

terrace (n.) : an unroofed paved area，immediately adjacent to a house，etc.露天平臺;陽臺

corny (adj. [cloolq.]) : unsophisticated，old-fashioned，trite，banal，sentimental，etc.過時的;陳腐的

sojourn (n.) : a brief 0r temporary stay;visit旅居;短期訪問

incorrigible (adj.) : not corrigible;that cannot be corrected。improved，or reformed，esp. because firmly established, as a habit不可救藥的;難以糾正的;根深蒂固的

efface (v.) : rub out，as from a surface;erase;wipe out;obliterate(從表面)擦掉，擦去，抹去;消除(痕跡)

fathom (v.) : measure the depth of;get to the bottom of; understand thoroughly測深;追根究底;弄清…的真相

unprecedented (adj.) : having no precedent or parallel;unheard-of;novel前所未有的;無前例的;新奇的

compulsive (adj.) : of，having to do with，or resulting from compulsion強(qiáng)迫的;有強(qiáng)迫力的

taboo (n.) : any social prohibition or restriction that results from convention or tradition(社會習(xí)俗或傳統(tǒng)習(xí)慣方面的)禁忌;避諱

sustenance (n.) : that which sustains life;nourishment;food食物;營養(yǎng)物

inexorable (adj.) : that cannot be moved or influenced by persuasion or entreaty;unrelenting不退讓的，不屈不撓的;不為所動的

sorely (adv.) : urgently;greatly;extremely迫切地;極其;非常

wed (v.) : unite or join closely密切結(jié)合

arm (n.) : any combatant branch of the military forces兵種;軍種

intangible (adj.) : that cannot be easily defined，formulated，or grasped;vague難以確定(或捉摸、掌握)的;模糊的;不明確的

短語(Expressions)

at bottom : fundamentally，actually根本上，實(shí)際上

例：At bottom I don't trust him.實(shí)際上我并不信任他。

in nigllt(from) : escaping from逃避，逃開

例：She has to face what she is always in flight from now.她現(xiàn)在必須面對自己一直在逃避的事情了。

in reHef : in sharp contrast浮雕一般，鮮明地，顯著地

例：The peaks stood out in bold relief against the azure sky.在藍(lán)天的映襯下，山峰的輪廓極為明顯。

be borne.m on/upon sb.: if a fact is borne in 0n someone,they re-alize that it is tree(事實(shí)等)為某人所認(rèn)識的

例：It was borne in on us how close we had been to disaster.我們已認(rèn)識到災(zāi)難迫在眉睫。