《渺小一生》:“他是绝望处境的主保圣人。

　 “I agree,” says Harold, picking up the statue and holding it in his hands. He strokes the figure’s pleated robe, his wreath of fire. “Why’s his head on fire?”

“我也觉得。”哈罗德说，把那尊木雕握在手里。他抚摸着木雕打褶的长袍，还有头上的那圈火，“为什么他的头发着火了？”

　 “It’s to symbolize that he was at Pentecost and received the holy spirit,” he hears himself saying, the old knowledge never far, cluttering up his mind’s cellar. “He was one of the apostles.”

“是要象征在五旬节那天，圣灵降临在他身上。”他不自觉地说了起来，旧日的知识从不曾远离，塞满他心中的地窖。“他是十二位使徒之一。”

　 “How’d you know that?” Malcolm asks, and Willem, who’s sitting next to him, touches his arm. “Of course you know,” Willem says, quietly. “I always forget,” and he feels a rush of gratitude for Willem, not for remembering, but for forgetting.

“你怎么会知道这些？”马尔科姆问，坐在他旁边的威廉碰了一下他的手臂。“他当然知道了。”威廉轻声说，“不像我总是忘记。”他忽然满心感激威廉，不是因为他记得，而是因为他忘了。

　 “The patron saint of lost causes,” adds Julia, taking the statue from Harold, and the words come to him at once: Pray for us, Saint Jude, helper and keeper of the hopeless, pray for us—when he was a child, it was his final prayer of the night, and it wasn’t until he was older that he would be ashamed of his name, of how it seemed to announce him to the world, and would wonder if the brothers had intended it as he was certain others saw it: as a mockery; as a diagnosis; as a prediction. And yet it also felt, at times, like it was all that was truly his, and although there had been moments he could have, even should have changed it, he never did. “Willem, thank you,” Julia says. “I love him.”

“他是绝望处境的主保圣人。”朱丽娅说，从哈罗德手中接过那尊雕像。他脑中忽然浮现出句子：为我们祈祷，圣裘德，绝望的协助者与守护者，为我们祈祷。在他小时候，这是他夜里的最后一段祷词。后来大一点，他才会以自己的名字为耻，以这名字向世界所宣告的意义为耻，他很好奇修士们是否故意给他取这个名字（他很确定别人都是这么看的）：是一种嘲笑，是一种诊断，是一种预言。但有时他又觉得，这个名字是唯一真正属于他的名字，尽管他曾有过一些机会可以、甚至应该改名，但他从来没改过。“威廉，谢谢你，”裘德说，“我很喜欢。”

　 “Me too,” says Harold. “Guys, this is all really sweet of you.”

“我也是，”哈罗德说，“各位，你们真是太好心了。”

　 He, too, has brought a present for Harold and Julia, but as the day has passed, it’s come to seem ever-smaller and more foolish. Years ago, Harold had mentioned that he and Julia had heard a series of Schubert’s early lieder performed in Vienna when they were on their honeymoon. But Harold couldn’t remember which ones they had loved, and so he had made up his own list, and augmented it with a few other songs he liked, mostly Bach and Mozart, and then rented a small sound booth and recorded a disc of himself singing them: every few months or so, Harold asks him to sing for them, but he’s always too shy to do so. Now, though, the gift feels misguided and tinny, as well as shamefully boastful, and he is embarrassed by his own presumption. Yet he can’t bring himself to throw it away. And so, when everyone is standing and stretching and saying their good nights, he slips away and wedges the disc, and the letters he’s written each of them, between two books—a battered copy of Common Sense and a frayed edition of White Noise—on a low shelf, where they might sit, undiscovered, for decades.

他也带了一个礼物要给哈罗德和朱丽娅，但随着时间越来越晚，他觉得这个礼物似乎愈发渺小、愈发愚蠢了。几年前，哈罗德提过他和朱丽娅去欧洲度蜜月时，曾在维也纳听过一系列舒伯特早期独唱曲的表演。但哈罗德不记得他们喜欢的是哪几首，于是他自己列出一份清单，加上他喜欢的几首歌（大都是巴赫和莫扎特的作品），租了个小录音间，录制了一张自己唱这些歌的光碟；因为每隔几个月，哈罗德就会要他唱给他们听，但他总是因为太害羞而没唱。如今，他感觉自已搞错了，这份礼物不仅没价值，还是一种可耻的自我夸耀。他为自己的妄自揣测感到难堪，但是也无法鼓起勇气把礼物丢掉。于是，趁每个人都站起来伸懒腰、互道晚安之时，他溜到一旁，把那张光碟，外加他分别写给朱丽娅和哈罗德的信，塞进下层书架上的两本书之间（一本破烂的《常识》和一本翻得很旧的《白噪音》）。这份礼物放在这里，可能几十年都不会有人发现。

　 Normally, Willem stays with JB in the upstairs study, as he’s the only one who can tolerate JB’s snoring, and Malcolm stays with him downstairs. But that evening, as everyone heads off for bed, Malcolm volunteers that he’ll share with JB, so that he and Willem can catch up with each other.

在通常的状况下，威廉会跟杰比睡楼上的书房，只有他忍受得了杰比的鼾声，而马尔科姆则跟他睡楼下。但那天晚上，大家各自回房休息时，马尔科姆自愿跟杰比同房，好让他和威廉可以多聊聊。

　 “ ’Night, lovers,” JB calls down the staircase at them.

“晚安啦，情人们。”杰比在楼梯上往下喊。

　 As they get ready for bed, Willem tells him more stories from the set: about the lead actress, who perspired so much that her entire face had to be dusted with powder every two takes; about the lead actor, who played the devil, and who was constantly trying to curry favor with the grips by buying them beers and asking them who wanted to play football, but who then had a tantrum when he couldn’t remember his lines; about the nine-year-old British actor playing the actress’s son, who had approached Willem at the craft services table to tell him that he really shouldn’t be eating crackers because they were empty calories, and wasn’t he afraid of getting fat? Willem talks and talks, and he laughs as he brushes his teeth and washes his face.

他们准备上床睡觉时，威廉告诉他更多拍片现场的趣事：女主角很会出汗，每拍两个镜头整张脸就要补粉；演恶魔的男主角总是想巴结摄影和灯光设备等器材组人员，买啤酒请他们喝，还邀他们一起打美式橄榄球，但有回他想不起台词，就乱发了一顿脾气；那个演女主角儿子的9岁英国童星，有天走到点心桌旁找威廉，跟他说他真的不该吃那些苏打饼干，因为都是没有营养的热量，难道他不怕发胖吗？威廉说了一件又一件，他洗脸刷牙时边听边笑。

　 But when the lights are turned off and they are both lying in the dark, he in the bed, Willem on the sofa (after an argument in which he tried to get Willem to take the bed himself), Willem says, gently, “The apartment’s really fucking clean.”

可是等关灯以后，他们躺在黑暗里，他睡床上，威廉睡沙发（他本来想让威廉睡床，两人还争执了一番），威廉轻声说：“公寓里真他妈的干净得要命。”

　 “I know,” he winces. “I’m sorry.”

“我知道，”他皱了一下脸，“对不起。”

　 “Don’t be,” Willem says. “But Jude—was it really awful?”

“不必对不起，”威廉说，“但裘德——状况真有那么糟吗？”

　 He understands then that Andy did tell Willem at least some of what had happened, and so he decides to answer honestly. “It wasn’t great,” he allows, and then, because he doesn’t want Willem to feel guilty, “but it wasn’t horrible.”

此时他明白，安迪的确把发生的事情告诉了威廉，至少是一部分。他决定诚实回答。“的确不太好。”他承认，然后，他不希望威廉觉得内疚，便说，“不过也没那么恐怖啦。”

　 They are both quiet. “I wish I could’ve been there,” Willem says.

他们沉默了一会儿。“我真希望当时陪着你。”威廉说。

　 “You were,” he assures him. “But Willem—I missed you.”

“你是陪着我啊，”他跟他保证，“威廉——我想念你。”

　 Very quietly, Willem says, “I missed you, too.”

威廉很小声地说：“我也想念你。”

　 “Thank you for coming,” he says.

“谢谢你赶回来。”他说。

　 “Of course I was going to come, Judy,” Willem says from across the room. “I would’ve no matter what.”

“我当然要赶回来，小裘。”威廉在房间那头说，“无论如何都要想办法。”

　 He is silent, savoring this promise and committing it to memory so he can think about it in moments when he needs it most. “Do you think it went all right?” he asks.

他没说话，细细体会这个保证，决心牢牢记住，这样日后最需要的时刻他就可以想起来。“你觉得这事情进行得还好吧？”他问。

　 “Are you serious?” Willem says, and he can hear him sit up. “Did you see Harold’s face? He looked like the Green Party just elected its first president and the Second Amendment was eliminated and the Red Sox were canonized, all in the same day.”

“那还用问？”威廉说，他听得出他坐起身来，“你没看到哈罗德的脸吗？他看起来像是得知绿党候选人首次当选总统，外加宪法第二修正案被删除，外加红袜队拿到总冠军，全都发生在同一天。”