《渺小一生》:“这真的是一件好作品。”
He can feel Harold looking at him. “Thank you,” he says, at last. “Thank you.” He can’t seem to say anything else.
他可以感觉到哈罗德在看他。“谢谢你。”最后他终于说，“谢谢你。”他好像说不出别的话了。
“It’s my pleasure,” says Harold, and neither of them says anything for a few seconds, until he comes to himself and unclasps his watch and fastens Harold’s—his, now—around his wrist, holding his arm up for Harold, who nods. “Nice,” he says. “It looks good on you.”
“这是我的荣幸。”哈罗德说。然后有几秒钟他们都没吭声，直到他回过神来，解下手上的手表，把哈罗德的表（现在是他的了）戴在手腕上，朝哈罗德举起手臂，哈罗德点点头，“不错。”他说，“你戴起来很合适。”
He’s about to reply with something (what?), when he hears, and then sees, JB and Malcolm, both in suits as well.
他正要回答些话，这时他听到、然后看到杰比和马尔科姆，两人也穿了西装。
“The door was unlocked,” JB says, as Malcolm sighs. “Harold!” he hugs him, “Congratulations! It’s a boy!”
“门没锁。”杰比说，马尔科姆吐口气。“哈罗德！”他拥抱他，“恭喜！是个男孩！”
“I’m sure Harold’s never heard that one before,” says Malcolm, waving hello at Julia, who’s entering the kitchen.
“我很确定哈罗德没听过这个梗。”马尔科姆说，然后跟正要走进厨房的朱丽娅挥手打招呼。
Andy arrives next, and then Gillian; they’ll meet Laurence at the courthouse.
下一个抵达的是安迪，接下来是吉莉安，他们会在法院和劳伦斯会合。
The doorbell rings again. “Are we expecting someone else?” he asks Harold, who shrugs: “Can you get it, Jude?”
门铃又响了。“还有其他人要来吗？”他问哈罗德。哈罗德耸耸肩：“裘德，你能不能去开门？”
So he opens the door, and there is Willem. He stares at Willem for a second, and then, before he can tell himself to be calm, Willem springs at him like a civet cat and hugs him so hard that for a moment he fears he will tip over. “Are you surprised?” Willem says into his ear, and he can tell from his voice that he’s smiling. It’s the second time that morning he’s unable to speak.
于是他打开门，外头站着威廉。他瞪着威廉一秒钟，然后，他还来不及提醒自己冷静下来，威廉就像一只麝香猫似的跳上来拥抱他，抱得很紧，让他一时之间很怕自己会往后倒下。“吓了你一跳吧？”威廉在他耳边说，他可以听出来他在微笑。这是今天早上他第二次说不出话来。
The court will be the third time. They take two cars, and in his (driven by Harold, with Malcolm in the front seat), Willem explains that his departure date actually had been changed; but when it was changed back again, he didn’t tell him, only the others, so that his appearance would be a surprise. “Yeah, thanks for that, Willem,” says Malcolm, “I had to monitor JB like the CIA to make sure he didn’t say anything.”
在法庭里将会出现第三次。他们坐两辆车过去。在他那辆车上（哈罗德开车，马尔科姆坐在前座），威廉解释他离开剧组的日期的确是延后了，但后来又改回来了。他没告诉他，只跟其他人说了，好给他一个惊喜。“是啊，谢了，威廉。”马尔科姆说，“我还得像中央情报局职员似的盯着杰比，好确定他不会说漏嘴。”
They go not to the family courts but to the appeals court on Pemberton Square. Inside Laurence’s courtroom—Laurence unfamiliar in his robes: it is a day of everyone in costume—he and Harold and Julia make their promises to each other, Laurence smiling the entire time, and then there is a flurry of picture-taking, with everyone taking photos of everyone else in various arrangements and configurations. He is the only one who doesn’t take any at all, as he’s in every one.
他们没去家事法院，而是来到了彭伯顿广场的上诉法院。里头是劳伦斯的法庭，今天大家都穿着正式服装，穿上法官袍的劳伦斯看起来有点陌生。他和哈罗德及朱丽娅对彼此说了誓词，劳伦斯从头到尾都在微笑。正式程序走完之后，有一小段混乱的拍照时间。每个人都忙着帮其他人拍照，于是有了各种组合和位置。他是唯一完全没拍摄的人，每一张照片里都有他。
He’s standing with Harold and Julia, waiting for Malcolm to figure out his enormous, complicated camera, when JB calls his name, and all three of them look over, and JB takes the shot. “Got it,” says JB. “Thanks.”
他正和哈罗德跟朱丽娅站在一起，等着马尔科姆搞清楚那台巨大而复杂的相机该怎么操作，此时杰比喊他的名字，他们三个人同时朝杰比看，杰比便拍了照。“好了，”杰比说，“谢了。”
“JB, this’d better not be for—” he begins, but then Malcolm announces he’s ready, and the three of them swivel obediently toward him.
“杰比，这张你最好不要拿去……”他开口说，但马尔科姆宣布他要按快门了，于是他们三人又乖乖转向马尔科姆。
They’re back at the house by noon, and soon people start arriving—Gillian and Laurence and James and Carey, and Julia’s colleagues and Harold’s, some of whom he hasn’t seen since he had classes with them in law school. His old voice teacher comes, as does Dr. Li, his math professor, and Dr. Kashen, his master’s adviser, and Allison, his former boss at Batter, and a friend of all of theirs from Hood Hall, Lionel, who teaches physics at Wellesley. People come and go all afternoon, going to and from classes, meetings, trials. He had initially been reluctant to have such a gathering, with so many people—wouldn’t his acquisition of Harold and Julia as parents provoke, even encourage, questions about why he was parentless at all?—but as the hours pass, and no one asks any questions, no one demands to know why he needs a new set anyway, he finds himself forgetting his fears. He knows his telling other people about the adoption is a form of bragging, and that bragging has its own consequences, but he cannot help himself. Just this once, he implores whoever in the world is responsible for punishing him for his bad behavior. Let me celebrate this thing that has happened to me just this once.
他们在中午前回到哈罗德家。很快地，人们陆续抵达——吉莉安、劳伦斯、詹姆斯、凯里，还有朱丽娅和哈罗德的同事，有些人他从法学院毕业后就没见过了。他以前的歌唱老师也来了，还有他的数学教授李博士、硕士指导老师卡申博士、以前烘焙工房的老板艾莉森，以及他们四个在虎德馆的老友莱诺，他现在在韦斯利学院教物理学。一整个下午，人们来来去去，去上课、开会、审判，或是下课、下班后赶来。他原先不太希望有这样的聚会，有这么多人——哈罗德和朱丽娅成为他的养父母，不就会激起、甚至鼓励人们提出问题，问他原先为什么没有父母呢？——但时间逐渐过去，没有人问任何问题，总之没有人想知道为什么他需要新的父母，于是他也忘了原先的恐惧。他知道告诉其他人关于收养的事情，仿佛是在自夸，而这种自夸会造成一些后果，但是他忍不住。就这么一次，他恳求某个为了他的不乖而处罚他的人，不管那是谁。就这么一次，让我庆祝这件发生在我身上的事吧。
There is no etiquette for such a party, and so their guests have invented their own: Malcolm’s parents have sent a magnum of champagne and a case of super Tuscan from a vineyard they partly own outside of Montalcino. JB’s mother sent him with a burlap sack of heirloom narcissus bulbs for Harold and Julia, and a card for him; his aunts have sent an orchid. The U.S. Attorney sends an enormous crate of fruit, with a card signed by Marshall and Citizen and Rhodes as well. People bring wine and flowers. Allison, who had years ago revealed him to Harold as the creator of the bacteria cookies, brings four dozen decorated with his original designs, which makes him blush and Julia shout with delight. The rest of the day is a binging on all things sweet: everything he does that day is perfect, everything he says comes out right. People reach for him and he doesn’t move or shy away from them; they touch him and he lets them. His face hurts from smiling. Decades of approbation, of affection are stuffed into this one afternoon, and he gorges on it, reeling from the strangeness of it all. He overhears Andy arguing with Dr. Kashen about a massive new proposed landfill project in Gurgaon, watches Willem listen patiently to his old torts professor, eavesdrops on JB explaining to Dr. Li why the New York art scene is irretrievably fucked, spies Malcolm and Carey trying to extract the largest of the crab cakes without toppling the rest of the stack.
这样的派对没有既定的送礼准则，于是客人们便自行挑选：马尔科姆的父母送了一大瓶香槟，还有一箱很棒的托斯卡纳葡萄酒，产自意大利蒙塔尔奇诺附近、他们家也有股份的一家酒庄；杰比的母亲要他转交一麻袋稀有的水仙球根给哈罗德和朱丽娅，还有给他的一张卡片；杰比的阿姨们则送了一盆兰花；联邦检察官送了一大箱水果，附上一张卡片，马歇尔、西提任和罗兹也在上头签了名；还有很多人带着葡萄酒和鲜花来；艾莉森几年前就曾跟哈罗德说细菌饼干是他做的，这回她带了四打他当初设计的饼干来，他脸红了，朱丽娅则开心得大叫起来。接下来众人就大吃各种甜食，他那天做的每件事都很完美，他说的每句话都很得体。有人过来找他时，他没有移动或躲开；别人碰触他时，他就由着他们。他笑得脸都发痛了，二十几年来的认可和关爱全都被塞到这个下午，他大口吞下，被所有这一切的陌生感搞得晕头转向。他不小心听到安迪和卡申博士为了印度北部城市古尔冈（Gurgaon）要兴建一个大型垃圾掩埋场而争辩，看着威廉耐心听着他以前的侵权法教授说话，还偷听到杰比跟李博士解释为什么纽约艺术圈烂到无可救药，暗中留意到马尔科姆和凯里试图抽出最大的那块蟹肉饼，又不想把整堆弄垮。
By the early evening, everyone has left, and it is just the six of them sprawled out in the living room: he and Harold and Julia and Malcolm and JB and Willem. The house is once again messy. Julia mentions dinner, but everyone—even he—has eaten too much, and no one, not even JB, wants to think about it. JB has given Harold and Julia a painting of him, saying, before he hands it over to them, “It’s not based on a photo, just from sketches.” The painting, which JB has done in watercolors and ink on a sheet of stiff paper, is of his face and neck, and is in a different style than he associates with JB’s work: sparer and more gestural, in a somber, grayed palette. In it, his right hand is hovering over the base of his throat, as if he’s about to grab it and throttle himself, and his mouth is slightly open, and his pupils are very large, like a cat’s in gloom. It’s undeniably him—he even recognizes the gesture as his own, although he can’t, in the moment, remember what it’s meant to signal, or what emotion it accompanies. The face is slightly larger than life-size, and all of them stare at it in silence.
等到傍晚，每个人都离开了，只剩他们六个人四肢大张地坐在客厅里：他和哈罗德、朱丽娅、马尔科姆、杰比和威廉。房子里又是一片混乱。朱丽娅提到过晚餐，但每个人（包括他）都吃太多了，所以没有人（包括杰比）愿意去想晚餐。杰比送了哈罗德和朱丽娅一幅他的肖像，在递给他们之前说：“这张不是根据照片画的，而是根据速写。”这幅画用水彩和墨水画在硬纸上，主要包括他的脸和脖子，不同于他熟悉的杰比风格，更加简约也更具动势，而且以灰色调为主。画中，他的右手悬在喉咙上方，好像要掐住自己的脖子，而他的嘴巴微开，瞳孔非常大，像黑暗中的猫眼。画中人无疑是他——他甚至认出那是自己的手势，不过那一刻，他想不起那个手势的含义，或者伴随着什么情绪。画中的脸比真人略大一些，他们所有人都沉默地盯着那张画。
“It’s a really good piece,” JB says at last, sounding pleased. “Let me know if you ever want to sell it, Harold,” and finally, everyone laughs.
“这真的是一件好作品。”杰比最后终于说，口气很满意，“哈罗德，万一你想卖，一定要通知我。”然后，每个人终于都笑起来。
“JB, it’s so, so beautiful—thank you so much,” says Julia, and Harold echoes her. He is finding it difficult, as he always does when confronted with JB’s pictures of him, to separate the beauty of the art itself from the distaste he feels for his own image, but he doesn’t want to be ungracious, and so he repeats their praise.
“杰比，这真是太美了，真谢谢你。”朱丽娅说，然后哈罗德也说了类似的话。他一如往常，在面对杰比画他的那些作品时，总觉得很难把作品本身的美和他对自己影像的厌恶分开来，但他不想没礼貌，也跟着附和那些赞美。
“Wait, I have something, too,” Willem says, heading for the bedroom, and returning with a wooden statue, about eighteen inches high, of a bearded man in hydrangea-blue robes, a curl of flames, like a cobra’s hood, surrounding his reddish hair, his right arm held diagonally against his chest, his left by his side.
“等一下，我也有个礼物。”威廉说，走向卧室，然后拿着一尊木雕回来，大约十八英寸高，是一个大胡子男人穿着绣球花蓝的长袍，一缕火焰有如响尾蛇昂起的头般环绕着他的红发。他的右手臂斜举在胸前，左手臂垂在身侧。
“Fuck’s that dude?” asks JB.
“妈的这位老兄是谁啊？”杰比问。
“This dude,” Willem replies, “is Saint Jude, also known as Judas Thaddeus.” He puts him on the coffee table, turns him toward Julia and Harold. “I got him at a little antiques store in Bucharest,” he tells them. “They said it’s late nineteenth-century, but I don’t know—I think he’s probably just a village carving. Still, I liked him. He’s handsome and stately, just like our Jude.”
“这位老兄，”威廉回答，“是圣裘德（St.Jude），又称朱达·撒迪厄斯（Judas Thaddeus）。”他把木雕放在茶几上，把它转向朱丽娅和哈罗德，“我在罗马尼亚首都布加勒斯特的一家小古董店买的。”他告诉他们，“店家说这是19世纪晚期的作品，可惜我不懂，我想可能只是民间雕刻。不过我很喜欢。这尊木雕英俊又庄严，就像我们的裘德。”
