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双语·夜色温柔 第一篇 第十八章

所属教程:译林版·夜色温柔

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2022年05月05日

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Although the Divers were honestly apathetic to organized fashion, they were nevertheless too acute to abandon its contemporaneous rhythm and beat—Dick’s parties were all concerned with excitement, and a chance breath of fresh night air was the more precious for being experienced in the intervals of the excitement.

The party that night moved with the speed of a slapstick comedy. They were twelve, they were sixteen, they were quartets in separate motors bound on a quick odyssey over Paris. Everything had been foreseen. People joined them as if by magic, accompanied them as specialists, almost guides, through a phase of the evening, dropped out and were succeeded by other people, so that it appeared as if the freshness of each one had been husbanded for them all day. Rosemary appreciated how different it was from any party in Hollywood, no matter how splendid in scale. There was, among many diversions, the car of the Shah of Persia. Where Dick had commandeered this vehicle, what bribery was employed, these were facts of irrelevance. Rosemary accepted it as merely a new facet of the fabulous, which for two years had filled her life. The car had been built on a special chassis in America. Its wheels were of silver, so was the radiator. The inside of the body was inlaid with innumerable brilliants which would be replaced with true gems by the court jeweller when the car arrived in Teheran the following week. There was only one real seat in back, because the Shah must ride alone, so they took turns riding in it and sitting on the marten fur that covered the floor.

But always there was Dick. Rosemary assured the image of her mother, ever carried with her, that never, never had she known any one so nice, so thoroughly nice as Dick was that night. She compared him with the two Englishmen, whom Abe addressed conscientiously as “Major Hengest and Mr. Horsa,” and with the heir to a Scandinavian throne and the novelist just back from Russia, and with Abe, who was desperate and witty, and with Collis Clay, who joined them somewhere and stayed along—and felt there was no comparison. The enthusiasm, the selflessness behind the whole performance ravished her, the technic of moving many varied types, each as immobile, as dependent on supplies of attention as an infantry battalion is dependent on rations, appeared so effortless that he still had pieces of his own most personal self for everyone.

—Afterward she remembered the times when she had felt the happiest. The first time was when she and Dick danced together and she felt her beauty sparkling bright against his tall, strong form as they floated,hovering like people in an amusing dream—he turned her here and there with such a delicacy of suggestion that she was like a bright bouquet, a piece of precious cloth being displayed before fifty eyes. There was a moment when they were not dancing at all, simply clinging together. Some time in the early morning they were alone, and her damp powdery young body came up close to him in a crush of tired cloth, and stayed there, crushed against a background of other people’s hats and wraps….

The time she laughed most was later, when six of them, the best of them, noblest relics of the evening, stood in the dusky front lobby of the Ritz telling the night concierge that General Pershing was outside and wanted caviare and champagne. “He brooks no delay. Every man, every gun is at his service.” Frantic waiters emerged from nowhere, a table was set in the lobby, and Abe came in representing General Pershing while they stood up and mumbled remembered fragments of war songs at him. In the waiters’ injured reaction to this anti-climax they found themselves neglected, so they built a waiter trap—a huge and fantastic device constructed of all the furniture in the lobby and functioning like one of the bizarre machines of a Goldberg cartoon. Abe shook his head doubtfully at it.

“Perhaps it would be better to steal a musical saw and—”

“That’s enough,” Mary interrupted. “When Abe begins bringing up that it’s time to go home.” Anxiously she confided to Rosemary:

“I’ve got to get Abe home. His boat train leaves at eleven. It’s so important—I feel the whole future depends on his catching it, but whenever I argue with him he does the exact opposite.”

“I’ll try and persuade him,” offered Rosemary.

“Would you?” Mary said doubtfully. “Maybe you could.”

Then Dick came up to Rosemary:

“Nicole and I are going home and we thought you’d want to go with us.”

Her face was pale with fatigue in the false dawn. Two wan dark spots in her cheek marked where the color was by day.

“I can’t,” she said. “I promised Mary North to stay along with them—or Abe’ll never go to bed. Maybe you could do something.”

“Don’t you know you can’t do anything about people?” he advised her. “If Abe was my room-mate in college, tight for the first time, it’d be different. Now there’s nothing to do.”

“Well, I’ve got to stay. He says he’ll go to bed if we only come to the Halles with him,” she said, almost defiantly.

He kissed the inside of her elbow quickly.

“Don’t let Rosemary go home alone,” Nicole called to Mary as they left. “We feel responsible to her mother.”

—Later Rosemary and the Norths and a manufacturer of dolls’ voices from Newark and ubiquitous Collis and a big splendidly dressed oil Indian named George T. Horseprotection were riding along on top of thousands of carrots in a market wagon. The earth in the carrot beards was fragrant and sweet in the darkness, and Rosemary was so high up in the load that she could hardly see the others in the long shadow between infrequent street lamps. Their voices came from far off, as if they were having experiences different from hers, different and far away, for she was with Dick in her heart, sorry she had come with the Norths, wishing she was at the hotel and him asleep across the hall, or that he was here beside her with the warm darkness streaming down.

“Don’t come up,” she called to Collis, “the carrots will all roll.” She threw one at Abe who was sitting beside the driver, stiffly like an old man….

Later she was homeward bound at last in broad daylight, with the pigeons already breaking over Saint-Sulpice. All of them began to laugh spontaneously because they knew it was still last night while the people in the streets had the delusion that it was bright hot morning.

“At last I’ve been on a wild party,” thought Rosemary, “but it’s no fun when Dick isn’t there.”

She felt a little betrayed and sad, but presently a moving object came into sight. It was a huge horse-chestnut tree in full bloom bound for the Champs-élysées, strapped now into a long truck and simply shaking with laughter—like a lovely person in an undignified position yet confident none the less of being lovely. Looking at it with fascination Rosemary identified herself with it, and laughed cheerfully with it, and everything all at once seemed gorgeous.

戴弗夫妇对于赶时髦、追时尚并不感兴趣,但他们嗅觉灵敏,愿意随着时尚的节奏和韵律前行——迪克圈子里的人都喜欢热闹,如果在寻欢作乐的空隙有机会呼吸一下夜晚清新的空气就更好了。

这天晚上的聚会简直就是一场闹剧,变化多端,先头有十二个人,后来变成十六个,四人一组乘车在巴黎兜风。一切就像是在预料之中,不时有人加入他们的行列,好似变魔术,以领队或导游的身份陪他们一程,然后销声匿迹,接着便另有人取代他们——似乎人人养精蓄锐一整天,就为了迎接这一时刻的到来。罗斯玛丽赞叹不已,觉得这样的聚会别出心裁,跟好莱坞的聚会大不相同,尽管后者气势恢宏。他们花样翻新,还弄来了一辆波斯国王的汽车。至于迪克是从哪儿搞来这部车子,用了什么贿赂手段,这些都无关紧要。罗斯玛丽欣赏的只是它新颖、稀奇的一面(这两年,在她的生活中,新颖、稀奇的玩意儿层出不穷)。这部车的底盘产于美国,是特制的,轮毂是银质的,散热器也是银质的。车厢里镶嵌了无数的人造宝石,当这辆车下星期抵达德黑兰时,这些人造宝石就会被宫廷珠宝匠用真正的珠宝替换。车子后面实际上只有一个座位,因为国王乘车外出必须一人独坐。于是,他们便轮流乘坐这辆车,坐在那铺满地板的貉皮上开开洋荤。

迪克无处不在,是核心人物。罗斯玛丽默默地对自己始终带在身边的母亲的肖像说:这天晚上的迪克简直棒极了,她从未见过如此风雅的人。她将迪克同跟前的几个人做了一番比较——无论是那两个被阿贝尊敬地称为“亨吉斯特少校和霍尔瑟先生”的英国人、一位斯堪的纳维亚的王储、一位刚从俄国回来的小说家,抑或热情洋溢、妙语连珠的阿贝,还是半途加入但一路陪伴的科利斯·克莱,没有一个能比得上迪克。迪克自始至终表现出蓬勃的激情和无私的奉献,让她着了迷。他施展个人魅力,热情地对待各种类型的人,似乎游刃有余,表现出高超的技巧,而其他人缺乏主动性,一味依赖他,就像一群士兵依赖给养。

事后回想起来,她觉得有几个时刻是她最幸福的时刻。首先,最叫她感到愉悦的是跟迪克翩翩起舞的时刻——她如花似玉、光彩照人,而迪克高大魁梧、身体健壮。他们脚步轻盈,舞姿优雅,仿佛置身于美丽的梦境之中。迪克带着她在舞场上这儿跳跳,那儿跳跳,巧妙地向二十五位看客展示她的美,就像展示一束艳丽的鲜花或一块华贵的锦缎。有一刻,他们停下舞步,只是紧紧地依偎在一起。清晨的那段时光,他们俩单独待着——在衣帽间紧紧拥抱,旁边挂着别人的帽子和外套,她把自己汗津津的搽过粉的年轻躯体紧紧贴在迪克的身上,将衣服弄得皱巴巴的。

而她笑得最开心的时刻则是在后面。当时他们一共六人,全都是昨晚聚会中的精英人物。大伙儿站在丽兹饭店昏暗的门厅里,告诉值夜班的守门人,说潘兴将军就在门外,他要在门厅这儿吃鱼子酱、喝香槟酒,并强调说:“潘兴将军容不得拖拖拉拉的作风。他有人有枪,可不是好惹的。”不知从哪儿冒出来几个侍者,神情慌乱,七手八脚在门厅里摆了一桌酒菜。伪装成潘兴将军的阿贝大摇大摆走了进来,他们恭立迎候,唱了几句依稀记得的战歌。原来,他们几个是怪侍者虎头蛇尾,对他们冷热不均,觉得自己受到了慢待,这才设置了这么一个圈套——结果,门厅里所有的家具被集中起来,搭成了一张古里古怪的大餐桌,看上去像是戈德堡漫画中怪异的机械装置。阿贝看了直摇头,说道:“也许,最好偷一把乐锯来……”

“够啦!”玛丽打断他的话说。接着,她焦急地对罗斯玛丽解释道:“阿贝该回家去了,可他还在玩这种把戏。必须叫他赶快回去。他要赶十一点钟的火车,免得误船。这很重要——我觉得他的整个前途就取决于能否赶上这趟火车。可是,每次我叫他干什么,他就偏不干,总是跟我唱对台戏。”

“我来劝劝他。”罗斯玛丽主动请缨。

“你?”玛丽怀疑地说,“也许你可以劝得动他吧。”

这时,迪克走到了罗斯玛丽跟前说:“我和尼科尔要回家了。你是不是愿意跟我们一起走?”

罗斯玛丽已经疲惫不堪,在昏暗的光线里显得脸色苍白,原本在日光下看上去红润的脸颊此时没有了光泽,有点暗淡。

可是她却说:“我不能走,因为我答应过玛丽·诺思要陪他们……如若不然,阿贝就不肯去睡觉。或许,你可以说得动他。”

“靠劝说是不顶用的。这道理你不明白吗?要是上大学,他是我的室友,如果是第一次耍别扭,劝劝他恐怕还顶用。现在你劝他,屁用都不顶。”迪克说。

“不管怎样,反正我得留下。阿贝说只要我们陪他逛一逛哈勒斯购物中心,他就睡觉。”罗斯玛丽带着一丝挑战的口气说。

迪克飞快地在她的胳膊肘内侧吻了一下。

“别让罗斯玛丽一个人回家,”他们两口子离开时,尼科尔朝玛丽喊道,“咱们要对她母亲负责。”

稍后,罗斯玛丽、诺思夫妇、一位来自纽瓦克的说话声奶声奶气的制造商、无处不在的科利斯以及一位名叫乔治·霍斯普罗泰克森的衣着华丽、油头粉面的大个子印度人,便一道坐上一辆满载着胡萝卜的菜市场卡车走了。一路上,在黑暗中可以闻到胡萝卜根须上的泥土散发出的阵阵清香。罗斯玛丽高高地坐在胡萝卜堆上面,几乎看不见同车的其他人——那几个同伴隐没在相距甚远的街灯之间的大片黑暗之中。那几个人说话的声音远远传来,仿佛他们跟她有着不同的感受,而且是截然不同的感受——她的心已飞到了迪克那儿,为自己陪诺思夫妇来而感到后悔,真希望自己此刻回到了旅馆,迪克就睡在对面的房间里,或者他就守在她身旁,和她一起待在这融融的、暖暖的黑暗中。

“别上来!”她冲着正要往上爬的科利斯叫道,“胡萝卜会滚下车的。”随后,她朝阿贝扔了一根胡萝卜——阿贝坐在司机旁边,呆呆的像个迟暮的老人……

她踏上归途时,天已大亮,看得见有一群鸽子在圣索皮尔教堂上空盘旋。大家开怀大笑——街上的行人看到的是一个晴朗、炎热的早晨,而他们几个人的思绪仍停留在昨天夜里。

“好一个狂欢之旅!”罗斯玛丽心想,“但是,迪克不在跟前,毫无乐趣可言。”

她觉得有点失落和伤感。就在这时,有一样活动的东西闯入了她的眼帘。原来那是一棵巨大的七叶树,开满了花,正被运往香榭丽舍大街,树身被绑在一辆长长的卡车上,但枝叶欢快地摆动着,似乎在笑——犹如一个可人儿,虽然处境尴尬,但对自己的魅力深信不疑。罗斯玛丽看得出了神,不由将自己比作了那棵树,也跟着快乐地大笑起来,刹那间觉得一切又是那般的美好。

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