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双语·《黑暗的心》 第一章

所属教程:译林版·黑暗的心

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2022年06月13日

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Chapter One
第一章

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a futter of the sails, and was at rest. The food had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide.
巡航小帆船奈莉号的帆并未抖动,便抛下了锚,稳稳停好。潮涨了,风也几乎止住,她要往下游开去,只能静等退潮。

The sea-reach of the Thames stretched before us like the beginning of an interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits.A haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness.The air was dark above Gravesend, and further back still seemed condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest, town on earth.
泰晤士河的入海口在我们面前铺展开,像一个起点,通向一条漫无尽头的航道。远远望去,海天交融,浑然一体。从那片明亮之处,随潮飘来艘艘大帆船,那些久晒成棕褐色的帆,仿佛寂然不动,红红地堆起来,帆顶尖尖的,斜杠上明灭着清漆的幽光。烟迷的河岸低低地延伸开去,渐渐消失不见。格雷夫森德上空,天色黯然,再往深处更是仿佛凝成一片愁云惨雾,死寂地摧压在世上最大,亦最伟大的城市之上。

The Director of Companies was our captain and our host. We four affectionately watched his back as he stood in the bows looking to seaward.On the whole river there was nothing that looked half so nautical.He resembled a pilot, which to a seaman is trustworthiness personified.It was difficult to realise his work was not out there in the luminous estuary, but behind him, within the brooding gloom.
公司的主任是我们的船长兼东家。他站在船头向海远望时,我们四人热切地盯着他的背影。在整条河流上,唯这一幕最富于航海色彩。他像引航员,水手的依靠。然而他的工作竟不在那个明亮的河湾上,而在他身后那片压得人喘不过气的阴云之下。

Between us there was, as I have already said somewhere, the bond of the sea. Besides holding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had the effect of making us tolerant of each others yarns-and even convictions.The Lawyer-the best of old fellows-had, because of his many years and many virtues, the only cushion on deck, and was lying on the only rug.The Accountant had brought out already a box of dominoes, and was toying architecturally with the bones.Marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning against the mizzen-mast.He had sunken cheeks, a yellow complexion, a straight back, an ascetic aspect, and, with his arms dropped, the palms of hands outwards, resembled an idol.The Director, satisfied the anchor had good hold, made his way aft and sat down amongst us.We exchanged a few words lazily.Afterwards there was silence on board the yacht.For some reason or other we did not begin that game of dominoes.We felt meditative, and ft for nothing but placid staring.The day was ending in a serenity of still and exquisite brilliance.The water shone pacifically;the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity of unstained light;the very mist on the Essex marshes was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds.Only the gloom to the west, brooding over the upper reaches, became more sombre every minute, as if angered by the approach of the sun.
在我们之间,我之前也说过,有着海洋的纽带。除了在漫长的别离中,让我们彼此牵挂,它还有一种奇效,令我们足以忍受彼此信口说出的奇闻逸事,甚至是荒诞离奇的信念。那位律师——最讨人喜欢的长者——因为资历深厚和德高望重,占用了船上唯一一个靠垫,并躺在唯一一条小毯子上。会计之前拿了一盒多米诺骨牌出来,正在拿牌搭房子。马洛盘腿坐在船尾,背倚着后桅。他双颊深陷,面色蜡黄,腰身挺拔,像个苦行僧。他双臂下垂,双掌外翻,又像尊神像。主任见锚抓稳了,便放了心,走到船尾,在我们中间坐下。大家只懒洋洋地说了几句话,然后船上一片沉静。不知怎的我们没有玩起多米诺骨牌来。我们仿佛满腔心事,对什么都无情无绪,只管睁着眼睛出神。夜幕徐徐降临,安宁静谧,晚霞烂漫。水面泛起粼粼波光,柔静细碎,天空了无纤尘,温和辽阔,澄净生光。埃塞克斯沼泽地上那片薄雾,像流彩溢辉的轻纱,从内陆高地的树林上垂下,柔柔地笼罩住低处的河岸,清透的褶皱隐隐飘拂。只有西方那片摧压着上游的阴云,在一分一秒地益发阴沉下去,仿佛因为落日的步步逼近赫然而怒。

And at last, in its curved and imperceptible fall, the sun sank low, and from glowing white changed to a dull red without rays and without heat, as if about to go out suddenly, stricken to death by the touch of that gloom brooding over a crowd of men.
终于,太阳沿着弧线悄然沉没,从灿白变成滞红,光消热散,像突然熄灭一般,撞死在那片芸芸众生头顶上的阴云里。

Forthwith a change came over the waters, and the serenity became less brilliant but more profound. The old river in its broad reach rested unruffed at the decline of day, after ages of good service done to the race that peopled its banks, spread out in the tranquil dignity of a waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth.We looked at the venerable stream not in the vivid flush of a short day that comes and departs for ever, but in the august light of abiding memories.And indeed nothing is easier for a man who has, as the phrase goes,“followed the sea”with reverence and affection, than to evoke the great spirit of the past upon the lower reaches of the Thames.The tidal current runs to and fro in its unceasing service, crowded with memories of men and ships it had borne to the rest of home or to the battles of the sea.It had known and served all the men of whom the nation is proud, from Sir Francis Drake to Sir John Franklin, knights all, titled and untitled-the great knights-errant of the sea.It had borne all the ships whose names are like jewels fashing in the night of time, from the Golden Hind returning with her round fanks full of treasure, to be visited by the Queen‘s Highness and thus pass out of the gigantic tale, to the Erebus and Terror, bound on other conquests-and that never returned.It had known the ships and the men.They sailed from Deptford, from Greenwich, from Erith-the adventurers and the settlers;kings’ships and the ships of men onChange;captains, admirals, the dark“interlopers”of the Eastern trade, and the commissioned“generals”of East India feets.Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fre.What greatness had not foated on the ebb of that river into the mystery of an unknown earth!……The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealths, the germs of empires.
水上风光顿改。褪去光辉的静谧变得更为深沉。夜幕降临之时,这条古老的河流安然地置身于它宽阔的河道里。千百年来,它惠及了居于两岸的种族,而现在,它顺着这一条通往天涯海角的水道,从容而庄严地,柔柔舒展着身躯。在我们眼中,这是一条令人肃然起敬的河流,照亮它的并不是朝生暮死的浮丽日光,而是庄严的记忆之光,历经世世代代,永不磨灭。事实上,对于一个俗语里心怀敬畏和爱慕“漂洋而生”的人来说,途经泰晤士河下游,最能触发过往的万丈豪情。潮汐日日复年年地来来去去,载着回家安歇或者出海战斗的人和船进进出出,堆积起层层叠叠的记忆。这个国家引以为傲的人物,它无一不认识并接待过,从弗朗西斯·德雷克先生到约翰·富兰克林先生,所有了不起的骑士——所有那些海上的英雄好汉,不论是否拥有真正的骑士头衔。它接送过每一艘名声远扬的船只,它们的名字耀若珠宝,在时间长河的黑夜里熠熠生辉。从那一艘双侧船舱满载财宝归来,引得女皇殿下亲临迎接,荣冠一时的金鹿号,到外出征讨其他地方却一别茫茫的埃里布斯号与恐怖号。它都在场,亲眼见证。人和船从德特福特、格林尼治和埃利斯出发——冒险者和殖民者,皇家帆船和商人的商船,船长、海军将领、暗地里从东方贸易分羹的“走私犯”,还有东印度舰队雇佣的“将军”。追名逐利之徒都从那条河流出发,利剑随身,也常常携带火炬。他们是该国强权的使者,手握神圣之火的火种。天下闻名的一切,都曾经随着这条河流的退潮漂浮出海,流去某片未知陆地的神秘之中……人类的梦想,共和国的种子,帝国的幼芽。

The sun set;the dusk fell on the stream, and lights began to appear along the shore. The Chapman lighthouse, a three-legged thing erect on a mudfat, shone strongly.Lights of ships moved in the fairway-a great stir of lights going up and going down.And further west on the upper reaches the place of the monstrous town was still marked ominously on the sky, a brooding gloom in sunshine, a lurid glare under the stars.
日落了,河面上天色渐暗,岸边亮起星星灯火。三条腿的查普曼灯塔矗立在海滨泥地上,发着强光。船的灯火流过河道——许许多多的灯光,热热闹闹地沿着河道上上下下。西边的上游处,坐落着那个大得畸形的城市,那不祥的标记仍在上空盘桓不去——残阳里的阴霾,群星下的鬼火。

“And this also,”said Marlow suddenly,“has been one of the dark places of the earth.”
“而这个地方,”马洛突然说,“也一直是世界上最黑暗的地方之一。”

He was the only man of us who still“followed the sea.”The worst that could be said of him was that he did not represent his class. He was a seaman, but he was a wanderer too, while most seamen lead, if one may so express it, a sedentary life.Their minds are of the stay-at-home order, and their home is always with them-the ship;and so is their country-the sea.One ship is very much like another, and the sea is always the same.In the immutability of their surroundings the foreign shores, the foreign faces, the changing immensity of life, glide past, veiled not by a sense of mystery but by a slightly disdainful ignorance;for there is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence and as inscrutable as Destiny.For the rest, after his hours of work, a casual stroll or a casual spree on shore suffces to unfold for him the secret of a whole continent, and generally he fnds the secret not worth knowing.The yarns of seamen have an effective simplicity, the whole meaning of which lies within the shell of a cracked nut.But, as has been said, Marlow was not typical(if his propensity to spin yarns be excepted),and to him the meaning of an episode was not inside like a kernel but outside, enveloping the tale which brought it out only as a glow brings out a haze, in the likeness of one of these misty halos that, sometimes, are made visible by the spectral illumination of moonshine.
他是我们之中唯一一个仍然“漂洋而生”的人。若要指责他,最多也只能说他没有代表自己的阶级。他是一个海员,却也是一个流浪者。然而几乎所有海员的生活,如果可以这样说的话,都有点安土重迁。他们满脑子都是居家的知识,去哪里都带着自己的家——船。他们也总是走不出自己的国家——海洋。船和船之间差异不大,海洋则处处相同。在千篇一律的环境中,异国的海岸,陌生的脸孔,截然不同的生活,浮光掠影般流转着,相隔的不是一层神秘的面纱,却是带着淡淡轻侮的蒙昧,因为对海员而言,唯有海洋本身是神秘的,它主宰他们的存在,和命运之神一般喜怒无常。而大陆的所有秘密,等辛劳的工作结束后,上岸闲逛一回,或肆意狂欢一番,便一览无遗,但一般他们对那些秘密兴味索然。海员随口说出来的奇闻逸事有着一种简单粗暴的直率,其中含义一目了然,仿佛碎果壳里无处藏身的果仁。然而听说马洛是个例外(如果不提他胡诌杜撰的癖好)。对他而言,事件的意义并非像果仁藏在壳内一样,隐潜于字里行间,而是像灼热的光生出来的烟雾,披裹在外,犹如朦胧的月晕,有时候正是仰仗了森冷的月光才得以显现。

His remark did not seem at all surprising. It was just like Marlow.It was accepted in silence.No one took the trouble to grunt even;and presently he said, very slow—
大家似乎对他说的话全然不觉得惊讶。马洛平时就这么说话。大家报以沉默,甚至都懒得发牢骚。他马上接着说下去,慢条斯理地——

“I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans frst came here, nineteen hundred years ago-the other day……Light came out of this river since-you say Knights?Yes;but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a fash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the ficker-may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!But darkness was here yesterday.Imagine the feelings of say a commander of a fine-what d‘ye call’em?—trireme in the Mediterranean, ordered suddenly to the north;run overland across the Gauls in a hurry;put in charge of one of these craft the legionaries-a wonderful lot of handy men they must have been too-used to build, apparently by the hundred, in a month or two, if we may believe what we read.Imagine him here-the very end of the world, a sea the colour of lead, a sky the colour of smoke, a kind of ship about as rigid as a concertina-and going up this river with stores, or orders, or what you like.Sandbanks, marshes, forests, savages-precious little to eat ft for a civilised man, nothing but Thames water to drink.No Falernian wine here, no going ashore.Here and there a military camp lost in a wilderness like a needle in a bundle of hay-cold, fog, tempests, disease, exile, and death-death skulking in the air, in the water, in the bush.They must have been dying like fies here.Oh yes-he did it.Did it very well, too, no doubt, and without thinking much about it either, except afterwards to brag of what he had gone through in his time, perhaps.They were men enough to face the darkness.And perhaps he was cheered by keeping his eye on a chance of promotion to the feet at Ravenna, by and bye, if he had good friends in Rome and survived the awful climate.Or think of a decent young citizen in a toga-perhaps too much dice, you know-coming out here in the train of some prefect, or tax-gatherer, or trader even, to mend his fortunes.Land in a swamp, march through the woods, and in some inland post feel the savagery, the utter savagery, had closed round him-all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forests, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men.Theres no initiation either into such mysteries.He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable.And it has a fascination, too, that goes to work upon him.The fascination of the abomination-you know.Imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escape, the powerless disgust, the surrender, the hate.”
“我想起那个古远的时代,罗马人初次踏上这片土地,一千九百年前——好像还只是几天前的事……这条河的明光可以追溯到——你说那些骑士?倒也不错。但这道光像火光蹿过平原,像闪电掠过乌云。我们就活在那忽明忽灭的光明之中——但愿只要老旧的地球还转得动,它就别彻底熄掉!但这里昨天是黑暗的。试想一下那种感觉,一个船长正指挥着一艘漂亮体面的——叫什么名字来着?——地中海三桨战船,却突然被调往北方,不得不匆匆忙忙地穿越高卢地区去指挥这些罗马军团的小船——军团的士兵也一定是些能工巧匠,这些小船他们几个月就能造出成百上千艘来,如果书本没有骗人。想象一下,假如那船长来到这个鬼地方——世界的尽头,海洋是铅灰的,天空是烟黑的,船差不多和六角手风琴一样不听使唤——指挥小船沿着这条河驶往上游,船上装满了军需品,或者订购的货物,或者随便你们高兴说的什么。沙岸、沼泽、森林、土人——对一个文明人来说,能吃的太少太珍贵,能喝的也只有泰晤士河的河水。这里没有法洛尼恩葡萄酒,上岸也没有。军营孤零零地散落在荒野中偶尔可见,就像针掉在干草堆里一样——冷啊,雾啊,狂风暴雨啊,疾病啊,流亡啊,还有死亡——死神就潜伏在空气里、水里和丛林里。他们肯定像苍蝇一样死在这里。噢,是的——那船长活下来了,毫无疑问还大捞了一笔,当然其实他也没太拿这当回事儿,也许不过就是过后向人吹嘘吹嘘当年他有多么英勇。他们可都是浑身是胆的好汉,面对那片黑暗时毫不怯场。而也许正是因为他一心想着升职,认为只要在罗马有靠得住的好兄弟,并能够熬过这该死的气候,有朝一日总能被调到拉文纳去指挥舰队,才能一直那么兴冲冲的。又或者,你们想象一下一个体面的年轻市民,穿着古罗马的托加袍——大概是赌骰子输得够呛——跟着某个市长、税务员或者甚至是生意人跑出来做发财梦。在某片沼泽地上岸,用两条腿穿过森林,走到某个内地的驿站时,突然发现身边是一片凶残的荒凉,凶残得毫无商量,把他围得密不透风——所有那些谜一样的生活,充满了在森林里、丛林里和土人心里蠢蠢欲动的野性。这些谜团无法破解,他只能一直活在这不可理喻而又可恶至极的环境之中。然而这环境也有一种令他着迷的魔力,憎恶的魔力——想想那不断增长的悔恨,那逃走的渴望,那令人彻骨地疲倦的厌恶,那自暴自弃和那怨毒。”

He paused.
他暂时闭上了口。

“Mind,”he began again, lifting one arm from the elbow, the palm of the hand outwards, so that, with his legs folded before him, he had the pose of a Buddha preaching in European clothes and without a lotus-flower—“Mind, none of us would feel exactly like this. What saves us is effciency-the devotion to effciency.But these chaps were not much account, really.They were no colonists;their administration was merely a squeeze, and nothing more, I suspect.They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force-nothing to boast of, when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others.They grabbed what they could get and for the sake of what was to be got.It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder on a great scale, and men going at it blind-as is very proper for those who tackle a darkness.The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly fatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.What redeems it is the idea only.An idea at the back of it;not a sentimental pretence but an idea;and an unselfsh belief in the idea-something you can set up, and bow down before, and offer a sacrifce to……”
“不过要注意,”他又开始道,弯起一条手臂,外翻手掌,加上在身前盘着的双腿,他的姿势像个正在布道的佛像,只不过穿的是欧式衣服,身下也没有莲花座——“要注意,我们现在谁也无法准确地对此感同身受了。多亏了效率——对效率的虔诚追求。不过这些家伙也算不上是什么大人物,真的。他们算不上是殖民者,他们的所谓行政只不过是去压榨当地人,我怀疑。他们是征服者,需要的只是残忍的武力——拥有这种力量没什么好夸耀的,别人只是意外地比他们弱小罢了。他们为达目的,从不放过能抢走的一切。这不过是肆无忌惮的暴力抢劫,罪加一等的大肆屠杀,他们却疯了一样前仆后继——要对付黑暗,倒也合该如此。征服土地,大多数情况下意味着抢走它,从那些肤色与我们不同,或者是鼻梁比我们稍稍塌一点的人那里。要是刨根问底,就会发现这不够光彩。能给它挽回一点面子的,就只有这样一个信念,隐藏在征服背后的,不是虚伪的感情,而是一个信念,以及对这个信念毫无私心的信仰——可以供奉起来,对它鞠躬,献上牺牲品的……”

He broke off. Flames glided in on the river, small green flames, red flames, white flames, pursuing, overtaking, joining, crossing each other-then separating slowly or hastily.The traffc of the great city went on in the deepening night upon the sleepless river.We looked on, waiting patiently-there was nothing else to do till the end of the food;but it was only after a long silence, when he said, in a hesitating voice,“I suppose you fellows remember I did once turn fresh-water sailor for a bit,”that we knew we were fated, before the ebb began to run, to hear about one of Marlows inconclusive experiences.
他打住了。河上流转着团团小小的火焰,绿色的,红色的,白色的,你追我赶,争先恐后,分分合合,交相穿越——然后或快或慢地分道扬镳。在无眠的河流上,夜色越益沉暗,那巨城的交通夜以继日。我们静观其变——潮水涨停之前我们无事可做。沉默了许久之后,他用迟疑的声音说:“你们这些家伙应该还记得吧?我的确曾经干过一阵子内河水手。”这下好了,在开始退潮之前,马洛又要讲一段他那些不了了之的经历,想不听都不行。

“I dont want to bother you much with what happened to mepersonally,”he began, showing in this remark the weakness of many tellers of tales who seem so often unaware of what their audience would best like to hear;yet to understand the effect of it on me you ought to know how I got out there, what I saw, how I went up that river to the place where I first met the poor chap. It was the furthest point of navigation and the culminating point of my experience.It seemed somehow to throw a kind of light on everything about me-and into my thoughts.It was sombre enough too-and pitiful-not extraordinary in any way-not very clear either.No, not very clear.And yet it seemed to throw a kind of light.
“我不想给你们唠叨我那些老掉牙的个人经历,”他说,他属于那一类往往不知道听众最想听什么的人,这句话正好暴露出这类人的弱点,“然而,要理解它对我产生的影响,你们得先知道我是怎样跑到了那儿去,看见了什么,怎样沿河而上去到那个地方,初次见到了那个可怜的家伙。那是航海的尽头,也是我这辈子经历的最高潮。不知怎的,它好像点亮了我身边的一切——也点亮了我的思想。它很令人哀伤——也很悲惨——怎么看也很普通——也不明不白。就是不明不白的。然而它似乎给了我一点启发。”

I had then, as you remember, just returned to London after a lot of Indian Ocean, Pacific, China Seas-a regular dose of the East-six years or so, and I was loafng about, hindering you fellows in your work and invading your homes, just as though I had got a heavenly mission to civilise you. It was very fne for a time, but after a bit I did get tired of resting.Then I began to look for a ship-I should think the hardest work on earth.But the ships wouldnt even look at me.And I got tired of that game too.
“你们应该还记得,那时我刚回到伦敦,在跑了很多趟印度洋、太平洋和中国海之后——那是东方的常规航线——这条航线我跑了有六年左右。回到伦敦后,我无所事事,在你们的上班时间去打搅你们工作,上你们家去找麻烦,仿佛我身负神圣的使命,要去教化你们。刚开始很开心,但不久我就感觉闲得烦透了。然后我开始去找一艘船——我想尝试一下地球上最艰苦的工作。但没人理我。我对这个游戏也烦透了。”

Now when I was a little chap I had a passion for maps. I would look for hours at South America, or Africa, or Australia and lose myself in all the glories of exploration.At that time there were many blank spaces on the earth, and when I saw one that looked particularly inviting on a map(but they all look that)I would put my fnger on it and say, When I grow up I will go there.The North Pole was one of these places, I remember.Well, I haven‘t been there yet, and shall not try now.The glamour’s off.Other places were scattered about the Equator, and in every sort of latitude all over the two hemispheres.I have been in some of them, and……well, we wont talk about that.But there was one yet-the biggest, the most blank, so to speak-that I had a hankering after.
“我小时候可喜欢看地图了。我会一连好几个小时盯着南美洲、非洲或者澳洲出神,为那些辉煌光荣的探险伟业心荡神驰。那时地图上有很多空白的空间,每当我看见一处看起来特别诱人的地方(但它们看起来都这样),就会把手指放在上面,说长大后一定要去那里。北极就是其中之一,我记得,不过我还没去过北极,也不打算去了。它的魔力已经消失了。其他空白空间散布在赤道周围和东西半球的各个纬度上。我去过其中一些地方,然后——唔,别谈这个了。但还有一个地方——可以说是最大最空的——我还渴望去看看。”

True, by this time it was not a blank space any more. It had gotflled since my boyhood with rivers and lakes and names.It had ceased to be a blank space of delightful mystery-a white patch for a boy to dream gloriously over.It had become a place of darkness.But there was in it one river especially, a mighty big river, that you could see on the map, resembling an immense snake uncoiled, with its head in the sea, its body at rest curving afar over a vast country, and its tail lost in the depths of the land.And as I looked at the map of it in a shop-window, it fascinated me like a snake would a bird-a silly little bird.Then I remembered there was a big concern, a Company for trade on that river.Dash it all!I thought to myself, they can‘t trade without using some kind of craft on that lot of fresh water-steamboats!Why shouldn’t I try to get charge of one.I went on along Fleet Street, but could not shake off the idea.The snake had charmed me.
“确实,它现在已经不再空白。从我小时候起,它就渐渐被填上河流、湖泊和地名。它不再是一块谜样的空白,充满乐趣——一块可以让男孩梦想光荣的空白。它变得一片黑暗。但那里有一条很特别的河,一条巨大的河,你可以在地图上看到它,就像一条硕大无朋的蛇,头淹在海里,身子一动不动地蜷曲着,穿过一片广袤的土地,尾巴消失在内陆深处。当我透过商店的橱窗,看着它的地图时,被深深迷住了,像一只被蛇迷住的鸟——蠢得要命的小鸟。然后我想起来,那条河上有一家大公司,大贸易公司。老天!我暗暗地想,要在那么大一条河上做生意,他们总要用到船吧——他们肯定有汽船!我干吗不试试去应聘船长?我沿着舰队街走啊走,但这个念头一直缠着我。那条蛇弄得我五迷三道的。”

You understand it was a Continental concern, that Trading society;but I have a lot of relations living on the Continent, because its cheap and not so nasty as it looks, they say.
“要知道那是一家欧洲大陆的公司,那个贸易公司。我倒是有很多亲戚住在大陆上,他们说因为那里生活成本低,也不像看起来那么糟糕。”

I am sorry to own I began to worry them. This was already a fresh departure for me.I was not used to get things that way, you know.I always went my own road and on my own legs where I had a mind to go.I wouldn‘t have believed it of myself;but, then-you see-I felt somehow I must get there by hook or by crook.So I worried them.The men said’My dear fellow,‘and did nothing.Then-would you believe it?—I tried the women.I, Charlie Marlow, set the women to work-to get a job.Heavens!Well, you see, the notion drove me.I had an aunt, a dear enthusiastic soul.She wrote:’It will be delightful.I am ready to do anything, anything for you.It is a glorious idea.I know the wife of a very high personage in the Administration, and also a man who has lots of infuence with,etc.,etc.She was determined to make no end of fuss to get me appointed skipper of a river steamboat, if such was my fancy.
“我厚颜无耻地去托他们替我打点。对我而言,这完全是一条新的人生道路。我不习惯这一套。我总是用自己的腿,走自己的路,去自己想去的地方。过后我都无法相信自己变成了那样,但是,那会儿——你们瞧——我真是鬼迷心窍,觉得反正我就是要达到目的,不择手段也在所不惜。于是我去托他们替我打点。男人们说完‘我亲爱的老朋友’便全无下文。然后——真难为情——我尝试向女士们下手。我,查利·马洛,打发女人们去替我跑腿——帮我找一份差事。天啊!要怪就怪那个念头。我有一个姨妈,一个可亲的热心人。她给我写信说:‘定然是一件令人愉悦的工作。我必定竭尽所能助你成功。该想法极佳。我认识一位公司高官的太太,和另一位有头面的先生……’等等。她下定决心,不畏艰难,一定要帮我当上内河船长,让我得偿所愿。”

I got my appointment-of course;and I got it very quick. It appears the Company had received news that one of their captains had been killed in a scuffle with the natives.This was my chance, and it made me the more anxious to go.It was only months and months afterwards, when I made the attempt to recover what was left of the body, that I heard the original quarrel arose from a misunderstanding about some hens.Yes, two black hens.Fresleven-that was the fellow‘s name, a Dane-thought himself wronged somehow in the bargain, so he went ashore and started to hammer the chief of the village with a stick.Oh, it didn’t surprise me in the least to hear this, and at the same time to be told that Fresleven was the gentlest, quietest creature that ever walked on two legs.No doubt he was;but he had been a couple of years already out there engaged in the noble cause, you know, and he probably felt the need at last of asserting his self-respect in some way.Therefore he whacked the old nigger mercilessly, while a big crowd of his people watched him, thunderstruck, till some man-I was told the chief‘s son-in desperation at hearing the old chap yell, made a tentative jab with a spear at the white man-and of course it went quite easy between the shoulder-blades.Then the whole population cleared into the forest, expecting all kinds of calamities to happen, while, on the other hand, the steamer Fresleven commanded left also in a bad panic, in charge of the engineer, I believe.Afterwards nobody seemed to trouble much about Fresleven’s remains, till I got out and stepped into his shoes.I couldn‘t let it rest though;but when an opportunity offered at last to meet my predecessor, the grass growing through his ribs was tall enough to hide his bones.They were all there.The supernatural being had not been touched after he fell.And the village was deserted, the huts gaped black, rotting, all askew within the fallen enclosures.A calamity had come to it, sure enough.The people had vanished.Mad terror had scattered them, men, women, and children, through the bush, and theyhad never returned.What became of the hens I don’t know either.I should think the cause of progress got them, anyhow.However, through this glorious affair I got my appointment, before I had fairly begun to hope for it.
“我得到了那份工作——那是当然的,但比想象中快得多。听说这家公司收到消息,说他们有个船长在和当地人的一场混战中一命呜呼了。真是千载难逢的好机会,这样一来我更加迫不及待要去接替他了。很多个月后,我试图去取回那个船长的尸体,才听说他和当地人嚷嚷起来的原因,是由几只母鸡引发的一场误会。没错,是两只黑母鸡。弗雷斯勒文——那个家伙的名字,一个丹麦人——认为自己在这笔买卖中上当受骗吃了亏,所以冲上岸,抄起一根棍子痛打那个村长。唔,尽管有同事告诉我,弗雷斯勒文是用两条腿行走的生物中最温和沉静的一个,我对这个故事也并不感到丝毫惊讶。他肯定是那样的人。但他已经在外为这崇高的事业打拼了好几年,可能终于感到有必要向别人证明一下他也是有自尊心的,于是他残忍地痛打那个老黑人,当着一大群村民的面,把他们吓得大气不敢出,直到某个男子汉——听说是村长的儿子——听到那个老家伙喊得撕心裂肺的,实在忍无可忍,拿起长矛向那白人试探性地一刺——一下子就刺进了两片肩胛骨之间。全村人马上逃进森林,等着大祸降临,然而,另一方面,本来听命于弗雷斯勒文的汽船慌慌张张地离开了,我相信是轮机手指挥的。过后似乎没有人为弗雷斯勒文的遗体操心,直到我被派去接替他的职位。尽管我不能置之不理,但等到我终于有机会与我的前任相见的时候,从他肋骨之间长出的荒草已经高得足以淹没他的骸骨了。倒也齐全。这一个超自然的人物倒下后,完全没被碰过。村子已经荒废了,那些茅屋张大了黑洞洞的嘴巴,腐烂着,在倒塌了的围栏内东倒西歪。这里肯定横遭了灾劫。村民都消失了。大难当前,疯狂的恐怖情绪在村民之间迅速传播,他们四散狂奔,男人,女人,还有儿童,全都跑进灌木丛中,一去不回。我也不知道后来那些母鸡怎么样了,但说它们为进步事业献了身总还是可以的。然而,多亏了这一桩光荣的事件,我被任命为船长。那时我都还没来得及对得到这个职位心生希望呢。”

I flew around like mad to get ready, and before forty-eight hours I was crossing the Channel to show myself to my employers, and sign the contract. In a very few hours I arrived in a city that always makes me think of a whited sepulchre.Prejudice no doubt.I had no diffculty in fnding the Companys offces.It was the biggest thing in the town, and everybody I met was full of it.They were going to run an over-sea empire, and make no end of coin by trade.
“我发了疯似的东奔西走,准备赴任,不到四十八小时就已经穿越英吉利海峡,见到我的雇主,签订好合同。不过短短几个小时,我便到了一个城市,那个城市总是让我想起一个精心粉刷过的巨大坟墓。那当然是一种偏见。我毫不费力就找到了公司的办公地点。它是这座城市的老大,我所遇到的每一个人都和它纠缠不清。他们正盘算着要营建一个海外帝国,通过贸易赚取源源不断的利润。”

A narrow and deserted street in deep shadow, high houses, innumerable windows with venetian blinds, a dead silence, grass sprouting between the stones, imposing carriage archways right and left, immense double doors standing ponderously ajar. I slipped through one of these cracks, went up a swept and ungarnished staircase, as arid as a desert, and opened the first door I came to.Two women, one fat and the other slim, sat on straw-bottomed chairs, knitting black wool.The slim one got up and walked straight at me-still knitting with downcast eyes-and only just as I began to think of getting out of her way, as you would for a somnambulist, stood still, and looked up.Her dress was as plain as an umbrella-cover, and she turned round without a word and preceded me into a waiting-room.I gave my name, and looked about.Deal table in the middle, plain chairs all round the walls, on one end a large shining map, marked with all the colours of a rainbow.There was a vast amount of red-good to see at any time, because one knows that some real work is done in there, a deuce of a lot of blue, a little green, smears of orange, and, on the East Coast, a purple patch, to show where the jolly pioneers of progress drink the jolly lager-beer.However, I wasnt going into anyof these.I was going into the yellow.Dead in the centre.And the river was there-fascinating-deadly-like a snake.Ough!A door opened, a white-haired secretarial head, but wearing a compassionate expression, appeared, and a skinny forefnger beckoned me into the sanctuary.Its light was dim, and a heavy writing-desk squatted in the middle.From behind that structure came out an impression of pale plumpness in a frock-coat.The great man himself.He was fve feet six, I should judge, and had his grip on the handle-end of ever so many millions.He shook hands, I fancy, murmured vaguely, was satisfed with my French.Bon voyage.
“我来到一条阴黑的街道上,狭窄荒凉,房屋都高高的,有无数带百叶窗的窗户,一片死寂,小草从石头之间探出头来,两边都是气派的马车拱道,巨大而沉重的双扇门阴森地半开着。我找到一条门缝溜进去,走上一道打扫得干干净净的楼梯,那楼梯很简陋,像沙漠一样了无生气。我推开碰上的第一扇门,看见两位女士,一胖一瘦,正坐在垫了草垫的扶手椅里织黑毛线。瘦的那个站起来,径直向我走过来——仍然低头织着毛线——她好像是个梦游者,我正想着给她让道,她却站住了,抬起头来看看我。她的衣服平整得像个伞套。她默默转身,把我带进一个候见室。我报上姓名,在房间里东张西望。中央有一张松木桌,墙根散放着普通的椅子,房间一头挂着一张巨大的地图,闪闪发光,上面用彩虹的七色做了密密麻麻的标记。有很多标记成红色的地方——红色任何时候看起来都赏心悦目,因为那意味着实实在在的工作成果。蓝色的地方也非常多,还有一小片绿色,几点橙色,在东海岸则有一小块紫色,表示那些兴高采烈的进步先锋们正在那里大喝令人兴高采烈的拉格啤酒。然而,这些地方我都不想去。我要去标记成黄色的地方,地图的正中央。那条河正好在那儿——勾魂摄魄——阴森狰狞——像一条蛇。啊!门开了,秘书的脑袋露出来,满头白发,一副悲天悯人的表情。他用瘦骨嶙峋的食指把我招呼到密室里去。密室里黑灯瞎火的,中间摆着一张沉重的写字台。我渐渐看清楚写字台后面的人影,白白胖胖,穿着双排扣长礼服。他就是老大。我看他大概五尺六寸高,动动手指头就能调用成百上千万英镑。他和我握手,大概是对我的法语很满意吧,口齿不清地说了句:一路顺风。”

In about forty-fve seconds I found myself again in the waiting-room with the compassionate secretary, who, full of desolation and sympathy, made me sign some document. I believe I undertook amongst other things not to disclose any trade secrets.Well, I am not going to.
“大约四十五秒后,我又回到了候见室,和那个悲天悯人的秘书待在一起。那个人满怀伤感和同情地让我签了一份文件。我相信自己肯定做出了很多保证,包括不能泄露任何贸易秘密。我本来也没想过要那样做的嘛。”

I began to feel slightly uneasy. You know I am not used to such ceremonies, and there was something ominous in the atmosphere.It was just as though I had been let into some conspiracy-I dont know-something not quite right;and I was glad to get out.In the outer room the two women knitted black wool feverishly.People were arriving, and the younger one was walking back and forth introducing them.The old one sat on her chair.Her fat cloth slippers were propped up on a foot-warmer, and a cat reposed on her lap.She wore a starched white affair on her head, had a wart on one cheek, and silver-rimmed spectacles hung on the tip of her nose.She glanced at me above the glasses.The swift and indifferent placidity of that look troubled me.Two youths with foolish and cheery countenances were being piloted over, and she threw at them the same quick glance of unconcerned wisdom.She seemed to know all about them and about me too.An eerie feeling came over me.She seemed uncanny and fateful.Often far away there I thought of these two, guarding the door of Darkness, knitting black wool as for a warm pall, one introducing, introducing continuously to the unknown, the other scrutinising the cheery and foolish faces with unconcerned old eyes.Ave!Old knitter of black wool.Morituri te salutant.Not many of these she looked at ever saw her again-not half, by a long way.
“我开始感到有些不对劲儿。你们也知道我对这些官方程序很不习惯,而且那种气氛让人觉得不吉利,就好像我被卷入某个阴谋里似的——我也说不清——反正就不是什么好事。从那个房间出来,我觉得轻松多了。那两个女人还在外间紧张地埋头织着黑毛线。不断有人进来,那个年轻一些的走来走去给他们引路。年纪大的那个坐在椅子上。她把平底布拖鞋抵在一个脚炉上,膝上躺着一只猫。她头上包着一块浆过的白布,也看不出是什么材料的,一边脸上有颗疣子,一副银边眼镜架在鼻尖上。她从眼镜上方迅速扫了我一眼,漠然得好像我是空气似的,真没礼貌。又走过去两个年轻人,看起来蠢得要命,却又一脸喜相,她也同样那么冷漠地看了他们一眼,好像她是个很有智慧的人似的。她似乎洞悉我们的一切。我不寒而栗。她仿佛有一种操控命运的神秘力量。在我远赴他乡的时候,常常想起这两个女人,镇守着黑暗的大门,用黑羊毛织着温暖的裹尸布,一个负责带路,不断把人带到没有人认识的地方,另一个瞪着那双冷漠森然的老眼来检查那些愉快而愚蠢的脸蛋。万福!织黑毛线的老人家。即将赴死的将士向您致敬。领教过她这种目光的人,没几个能再见到她——不到一半,远远不到。”

There was yet a visit to the doctor.‘A simple formality,’assured me the secretary, with an air of taking an immense part in all my sorrows. Accordingly a young chap wearing his hat over the left eyebrow, some clerk I suppose-there must have been clerks in the business, though the house was as still as a house in a city of the dead-came from somewhere up-stairs and led me forth.He was shabby and careless, with ink-stains on the sleeves of his jacket, and his cravat was large and billowy, under a chin shaped like the toe of an old boot.It was a little too early for the doctor, so I proposed a drink, and thereupon he developed a vein of joviality.As we sat over our vermouths he glorified the Company‘s business and by and bye I expressed casually my surprise at him not going out there.He became very cool and collected all at once.’I am not such a fool as I look, quoth Plato to his disciples,he said sententiously, emptied his glass with great resolution, and we rose.
“还要去找医生。‘例行手续而已。’秘书向我保证,好让我放心,好像对于我所有的疑虑,他完全了解,而且深表同情。于是一个歪戴着帽子盖住左眼眉的年轻伙计,大概是个文书吧——公司里肯定有文书,尽管这座房子就跟建在了坟墓里似的,死气沉沉——从楼上某个地方走下来带我去找医生。他穿得又破又旧,一点儿也不讲究。外套袖子上沾着墨水迹,皱巴巴的围巾松垮垮地围在脖子上,下巴像旧靴子的鞋尖一样。时间还早,我提议去喝一杯,他马上喜笑颜开。我们点了苦艾酒,他边喝边把公司的生意吹得天上有地下无,我随口表示好奇,问他为什么不自己出去闯闯。他马上变得又冷淡又严肃。‘借用柏拉图对他门徒说的话,我没看起来那么笨。’他简短地说,好像很壮烈地干了他的酒。我们站起身来。”

The old doctor felt my pulse, evidently thinking of something else the while.‘Good, good for there,’he mumbled, and then with a certain eagerness asked me whether I would let him measure my head. Rather surprised, I said Yes, when he produced a thing like callipers and got the dimensions back and front and every way, taking notes carefully.He was an unshaven little man in a threadbare coat like a gaberdine, with his feet in slippers, and I thought him a harmless fool.‘I always ask leave, in the interests of science, to measure the crania of those going out there,’he said.‘And when they come back too?’I asked.‘Oh, I never see them,’he remarked;‘and, moreover, the changes take place inside, you know.’He smiled, as if at some quiet joke.‘So you are going out there.Famous.Interesting too.’He gave me a searching glance, and made another note.‘Ever any madness in your family?’he asked, in a matter-of-fact tone.I felt very annoyed.‘Is that question in the interests of science too?’‘It would be,’he said, without taking notice of my irritation,‘interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot, but……’‘Are you an alienist?’I interrupted.‘Every doctor should be-a little,’answered that original, imperturbably.‘I have a little theory which you Messieurs who go out there must help me to prove.This is my share in the advantages my country shall reap from the possession of such a magnifcent dependency.The mere wealth I leave to others.Pardon my questions, but you are the frst Englishman coming under my observation……’I hastened to assure him I was not in the least typical.‘If I were,’said I,‘I wouldn’t be talking like this with you.‘’What you say is rather profound, and probably erroneous,‘he said, with a laugh.’Avoid irritation more than exposure to the sun.Adieu.How do you English say, eh?Goodbye.Ah!Goodbye.Adieu.In the tropics one must before everything keep calm.‘……He lifted a warning forefnger……’Du calme, du calme.Adieu.
“那位老医生给我诊脉时,明显有些心不在焉。‘好,去那儿没问题。’他嘟嘟囔囔地说,然后热切地问我愿不愿意让他量一量我的头。我有些惊讶地说可以,他就拿出一个像卡尺一样的工具,从所有角度把我的头骨量了一遍,仔细地记录下来。他是个小个子,胡子拉碴的,穿着一件很旧的外套,像是工作服,踩着拖鞋,我觉得他是一个对人无害的笨蛋。‘为了科学的发展,凡是要到那里去的人,我都求他们让我量量头盖骨。’他说。‘等他们回来了,您会再量一遍吗?’我问。‘哦,我没见过他们回来,’他说,‘再说了,变化是内在的,对不对?’他笑了,好像自己讲了个隐晦的笑话。‘所以你是要到那里去了。真了不起。有趣极了。’他用锐利的目光扫了我一眼,又记下一条笔记。‘你的家族有精神病史吗?’他用就事论事的语气问道。我气炸了。‘这也是为了科学的发展吗?’‘在科学上,’他说,并没有注意到我有多么生气,‘当场密切关注个人精神状态的变化是很有意义的,但是……’‘您是个精神病学家吗?’我打断他。‘应该每个医生都——多少懂一点儿吧。’那个怪人若无其事地说,‘我有这么一个小观点,麻烦你们这些到那里去的先生们务必帮我证实一下。我们国家有那么多属地,想要什么有什么,我这要求也不算过分。这是我唯一能留给他人的财富。请不要为我的问题生气,但你是我检查的第一个英国人……’我忙告诉他我可一点儿也不具有代表性。‘要是我有,’我说,‘就不会这么没礼貌。’‘你这话够深奥的,不过事实也许并非如此。’他大笑着说,‘避免暴怒,比避免暴晒更重要。慢走。你们英国人是怎么说的来着?再会。啊!再会。慢走。在热带地区,不管遇到什么事情,都要记住保持冷静……’他举起一根食指,以示警告……‘冷静,冷静。慢走。’”

One thing more remained to do-say goodbye to my excellent aunt. I found her triumphant.I had a cup of tea-the last decent cup of tea for many, many days-and in a room that most soothingly looked just as you would expect a lady‘s drawing-room to look, we had a long quiet chat by the fireside.In the course of these confidences it became quite plain to me I had been represented to the wife of the high dignitary, and goodness knows to how many more people besides, as an exceptional and gifted creature-a piece of good fortune for the Company-a man you don’t get hold of every day.Good heavens!and I was going to take charge of a two pence-halfpenny river-steamboat with a penny whistle attached!It appeared, however, I was also one of the Workers, with a capital-you know.Something like an emissary of light, something like a lower sortof apostle.There had been a lot of such rot let loose in print and talk just about that time, and the excellent woman, living right in the rush of all that humbug, got carried off her feet.She talked about‘weaning those ignorant millions from their horrid ways,’till, upon my word, she made me quite uncomfortable.I ventured to hint that the Company was run for proft.
“还要去做一件事情——向我那杰出的姨妈告辞。她见到我,欣喜若狂。我喝了杯茶——之后无数天我都喝不上这么像样的茶了——在一个最最舒服的房间里,那可是贵妇的会客室,你们能想象得出有多舒服它就有多舒服。我们在火炉旁安安静静地聊了很久很久。这时我才知道,她把我推荐给那位高官的夫人,还有天晓得其他多少人,说我天赋非凡——对公司来说简直是天降奇福——是百年不遇的人才。天啊!我不过是要去指挥一条不值几个钱的内河汽船,它的汽笛几乎不要钱!然而,那表明我也是一个名副其实的‘工作人员’,也算是光明的使者,低级传教士。当时书报上和言谈里满是这种蠢话,而那位杰出的女士正好生活在那阵鬼话的浪潮之中,被冲得晕头转向,快连自己是谁都不知道了。她大谈‘帮助那数百万无知的土人戒除陋习’,说个不停,我都要听不下去了。我壮起胆来,暗示说公司就是想赚钱而已。”

‘You forget, dear Charles, that the labourer is worthy of his hire,’she said, brightly. Its queer how out of touch with truth women are!They live in a world of their own, and there had never been anything like it, and never can be.It is too beautiful altogether, and if they were to set it up it would go to pieces before the frst sunset.Some confounded fact we men have been living contentedly with ever since the day of creation would start up and knock the whole thing over.
“‘我亲爱的查理,你忘了,他们也是通过付出劳动赚取钱财的。’她说,好像很聪明伶俐似的。真是奇怪,女人怎么会这么天真!她们活在自己的世界里,这样的世界从前没有,以后也不会有。它太美好了,就算她们真的建起了这么一个世界,它也熬不过第一个日落。我们男人从创世之日起便坦然对待的某个混账事实,会蹦出来打碎它。”

After this I got embraced, told to wear flannel, be sure to write often, and so on-and I left. In the street-I don‘t know why-a queer feeling came to me that I was an impostor.Odd thing that I, who used to clear out for any part of the world at twenty-four hours’notice, with less thought than most men give to the crossing of a street, had a moment-I wont say of hesitation, but of startled pause, before this commonplace affair.The best way I can explain it to you is by saying that, for a second or two, I felt as though, instead of going to the centre of a continent, I were about to set off for the centre of the earth.
“完了她拥抱我,嘱咐我要穿上法兰绒上衣,记得常常来信,等等——之后我就走了。在大街上——不知怎的——可奇怪了,我忽然觉得自己是个大骗子。太奇怪了,我这个人向来是接到通知之后二十四小时内就能出发去任何地方的,就跟大多数人过马路一样,不需要思前想后,但有那么一瞬间——面对这么一件区区小事,虽说不上是犹豫不决,我却有点临阵退缩。这么解释最好了:有那么几秒钟,我觉得我要去的是地球的中心,而不是大陆的中心。”

I left in a French steamer, and she called in every blamed port they have out there, for, as far as I could see, the sole purpose of landing soldiers and custom-house officers. I watched the coast.Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma.There it is before you-smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering, Come and find out.This one was almost featureless, as if still in the making, with an aspect ofmonotonous grimness.The edge of a colossal jungle, so dark-green as to be almost black, fringed with white surf, ran straight, like a ruled line, far, far along a blue sea whose glitter was blurred by a creeping mist.The sun was ferce, the land seemed to glisten and drip with steam.Here and there greyish-whitish specks showed up, clustered inside the white surf, with a flag flying above them perhaps.Settlements-settlements, some centuries old, and still no bigger than pin-heads on the untouched expanse of their background.We pounded along, stopped, landed soldiers;went on, landed custom-house clerks to levy toll in what looked like a God-forsaken wilderness, with a tin shed and a fag-pole lost in it;landed more soldiers-to take care of the custom-house clerks, presumably.Some, I heard, got drowned in the surf;but whether they did or not, nobody seemed particularly to care.They were just flung out there, and on we went.Every day the coast looked the same, as though we had not moved;but we passed various places-trading places-with names like Gran‘Bassam, Little Popo, names that seemed to belong to some sordid farce acted in front of a sinister backcloth.The idleness of a passenger, my isolation amongst all these men with whom I had no point of contact, the oily and languid sea, the uniform sombreness of the coast, seemed to keep me away from the truth of things, within the toils of a mournful and senseless delusion.The voice of the surf heard now and then was a positive pleasure, like the speech of a brother.It was something natural, that had its reason, that had a meaning.Now and then a boat from the shore gave one a momentary contact with reality.It was paddled by black fellows.You could see from afar the white of their eyeballs glistening.They shouted, sang;their bodies streamed with perspiration;they had faces like grotesque masks-these chaps;but they had bone, muscle, a wild vitality, an intense energy of movement, that was as natural and true as the surf along their coast.They wanted no excuse for being there.They were a great comfort to look at.For a time I would feel I belonged still to a world of straightforward facts;but the feeling would not last long.Something would turn up to scare it away.Once, I remember, we came upon a man-of-war anchored off the coast.There wasn’t even a shed there, and she was shelling the bush.It appears the French had one of their wars going on thereabouts.Her ensign drooped limp like a rag;the muzzles of the long eight-inch guns stuck out all over the low hull;the greasy, shiny swell swung her up lazily and let her down, swaying her thin masts.In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, fring into a continent.Pop, would go one of the eight-inch guns;a small fame would dart and vanish, a little white smoke would disappear, a tiny projectile would give a feeble screech-and nothing happened.Nothing could happen.There was a touch of insanity in the proceeding, a sense of lugubrious drollery in the sight;and it was not dissipated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was a camp of natives-he called them enemies!—hidden out of sight somewhere.
“我坐一艘法国轮船离开,她经停每一个属于公司的混账港口,据我了解就只是为了送士兵和海关官员上岸。我一路盯着海岸看。看着海岸滑过轮船,就像在猜谜。它就在眼前——笑着,皱着眉,欢迎着,宏伟,残忍,无聊,或野蛮,好像一路在无声地对人轻轻说着:来看看我葫芦里卖的是什么药!这片海岸平淡无奇,好像还没修好似的,只是一味的阴森凄凉。那一大片丛林的边缘绿得发黑,镶着白色的海浪,仿佛用尺子画出来的白线,笔直地沿着一片蓝色的海洋延伸开去,薄雾慢慢升上来,遮住海水的闪光。烈日炎炎,陆地仿佛也在放光,冒着水汽,湿淋淋的。白浪里不时冒出一些灰白的斑点,有些顶上飘着旗。是居民点——这些有着几百年历史的居民点,在那片未被开发的辽阔背景下,不过像针尖一般渺小。我们乘风破浪,靠岸,丢下几个士兵;继续前进,在关税站丢下几个海关职员——那些关税站就是些用马口铁做的棚子,支着旗杆,隐没在一片仿佛被上帝遗弃了的荒野中;再丢下几个士兵——大概是要他们去保护那些海关职员吧。听说有些士兵掉到海里淹死了,但似乎没人在意。把他们送到目的地就完事了,我们继续前进。海岸每天看起来都一模一样,我们仿佛在原地打转,但实际上我们已经驶过了许多地方——贸易点——叫什么大巴萨姆啊、小波波啊之类的,这些名字让人想到那些在狰狞的幕布前演出的下流闹剧。乘客的日子百无聊赖,而且我和同行的人没共同语言,别提有多孤单了。那片海洋像被油污了似的,令人昏昏欲睡,加上那永远面目沉暗的海岸,仿佛远离了真实的世界,弄得我情绪低落,整日胡思乱想,简直要发疯。不时传来的海浪声欢快清新,仿佛兄弟的笑语。那自然的声音,有它自己的因缘和含义。忽然一条船从岸边划过来,暂时地将这画面变成了一道现世的风景。黑人们在划桨,远远地就能看见他们那些白得发亮的眼珠。他们大喊大叫,放声歌唱;他们大汗淋漓;他们的脸像古怪的面具——这些家伙啊;但他们有骨头,有肌肉,有一种狂野的生命力,动作散发着无穷的力量,就像岸边的海浪一样自然真实。他们仿佛天然地就应该出现在那里。看着他们,但觉心旷神怡。那一阵子我会感到自己又回到了那个无遮无掩的现实世界,但那种感觉终归是短暂的,总有点什么会冒出来惊散它。我记得有一次我们偶遇一艘停泊在岸边的军舰。岸上连一间棚屋都没有,那军舰却在向灌木丛使劲儿放炮,看来法国人正在那附近打仗。她的船旗像块破布一样死沉沉地耷拉着,船身低处的八英寸长筒炮全部升了起来。油污的海浪一闪一闪,懒洋洋地把它抛上抛下,那单薄的桅杆东摇西摆。在这一片巨大的虚空中,只有大地、天空和海洋,她却在那里不可理喻地向一片大陆开着火。砰!一门八英寸长筒炮开火了,一小团火焰狂奔而出,转眼就熄灭了,那缕瘦瘦的白烟也随之消失,一颗小小的炮弹低低地惨叫一声——然后什么事也没有。能有什么事呢?这个过程真有点神经兮兮的,一个可笑又可叹的场面。船上有人一本正经地向我解释说那里有一个土著的军营——他竟然叫他们敌人!——藏在岸上某个地方,说得言之凿凿的。但那并不能改变我的感受。”

We gave her her letters(I heard the men in that lonely ship were dying of fever at the rate of three a day)and went on. We called at some more places with farcical names, where the merry dance of death and trade goes on in a still and earthy atmosphere as of an overheated catacomb;all along the formless coast bordered by dangerous surf, as if Nature herself had tried to ward off intruders;in and out of rivers, streams of death in life, whose banks were rotting into mud, whose waters, thickening into slime, invaded the contorted mangroves, that seemed to writhe at us in the extremity of an impotent despair.Nowhere did we stop long enough to get a particularised impression, but the general sense of vague and oppressive wonder grew upon me.It was like a weary pilgrimage amongst hints for nightmares.
“我们把信送到那条船上(听说在那艘孤独的船上,每天都有三个人死于热病)后继续前进。我们又在一些名字古怪的港口靠岸,它们像热得过分的地下古墓,宁静的空气里弥漫着泥土味,死神和贸易在墓里翩翩起舞。我们沿着没有固定形状的海岸前行,浪花冷酷凶险地拍着岸,就像大自然正自发努力想要挡开入侵者。一条又一条的河,死亡之流源源不绝地流出流入,把河岸腐蚀成烂泥,河水变污变稠,摧毁着扭曲的红树林,那些树好像在向我们痛苦地扭动着,极端绝望,束手无策。我们在任何一个地方都待不长,无法留下特别详细的印象,只是笼统地觉得有一种日益滋长的疑惑,模糊而滞闷。就像走不完的旅程,无聊透顶,仿佛一场噩梦。”

It was upwards of thirty days before I saw the mouth of the bigriver. We anchored off the seat of the government.But my work would not begin till some two hundred miles further on.So as soon as I could I made a start for a place thirty miles higher up.
“走了三十多天,终于看到那条大河的河口。我们的船停泊在政府所在地附近的岸边。但我还要往前走两百多英里才能开工。所以我逮住一个机会,出发去上游三十英里的一个地方。”

I had my passage on a little sea-going steamer. Her captain was a Swede, and knowing me for a seaman, invited me on the bridge.He was a young man, lean, fair, and morose, with lanky hair and a shuffing gait.As we left the miserable little wharf, he tossed his head contemptuously at the shore.‘Been living there?’he asked.I said,‘Yes.’‘Fine lot these government chaps-are they not?’he went on, speaking English with great precision and considerable bitterness.‘It is funny what some people will do for a few francs a month.I wonder what becomes of that kind when it goes up country?’I told him I expected to see that soon.‘So-o-o!’he exclaimed.He shuffed athwart, keeping one eye ahead vigilantly.‘Don’t be too sure,‘he continued.’The other day I took up a man who hanged himself on the road.He was a Swede, too.‘’Hanged himself!Why, in God‘s name?’I cried.He kept on looking out watchfully.‘Who knows?The sun too much for him, or the country perhaps.’
“我坐的是一条航海小汽船。船长是瑞典人,听说我是个水手,就请我到驾驶台上去。他很年轻,瘦削白皙,神情阴郁,头发细长,走起路来拖泥带水。我们离开那个凄惨的小码头时,他轻蔑地向岸边甩甩头。‘您就住那儿?’他问。我说:‘没错。’‘那些政府官员真够意思——不是吗?’他继续说,说的是英文,用语极度精确,话里藏针,‘真是有意思,有些人为了一个月挣那几个法郎,简直什么都做得出来。我真想知道上游是什么光景。’我告诉他我很快就能看到了。‘这样啊!’他惊叫起来。他横拖着步子走了几步,警觉地注视着前方。‘不要掉以轻心,’他继续说道,‘前几天我救起了一个家伙,他在路上上吊自杀。也是个瑞典人。’‘上吊自杀!天啊!有什么看不开的?’我喊了出来。他依然保持着警觉。‘谁知道呢?实在受不了那大太阳,又或者是那鬼地方。’”

At last we opened a reach. A rocky cliff appeared, mounds of turned-up earth by the shore, houses on a hill, others, with iron roofs, amongst a waste of excavations, or hanging to the declivity.A continuous noise of rapids above hovered over this scene of inhabited devastation.A lot of people, mostly black and naked, moved about like ants.A jetty projected into the river.A blinding sunlight drowned all this at times in a sudden recrudescence of glare.‘There’s your Company‘s station,’said the Swede, pointing to three wooden barrack-like structures hanging on the rocky slope.‘I will send your things up.Four boxes did you say?So.Farewell.’
“最后,我们驶进一条开阔的水道,看见一道岩石满布的悬崖,岸边翻出成堆的泥土,一座小山上有许多房子。在被挖出来的一堆堆废物之间,在山坡上,散落着其他用铁皮做顶的房子。上方不断传来急流的响声,在这片住了人的废墟上回旋激荡。很多人,几乎都是黑皮肤,赤身裸体,像蚂蚁一样窜来窜去。一个小码头伸入河中。阳光忽然变得刺眼,让人什么都看不见。‘那就是您公司的贸易站,’瑞典人说,指着三间像兵营一样的木屋子,它们颤巍巍地架在满是岩石的斜坡上,‘我找人帮您把东西运上去。您是说四个箱子吧?祝您好运。再见。’”

I came upon a boiler wallowing in the grass, then found a path leading up the hill. It turned aside for the boulders, and also for anundersized railway-truck lying there on its back with its wheels in the air.One was off.The thing looked as dead as the carcass of some animal.I came upon more pieces of decaying machinery, a stack of rusty rails.To the left a clump of trees made a thick shade, where dark things seemed to stir feebly.I blinked, the path was steep.A horn tooted to the right, and I saw the black people run.A heavy and dull detonation shook the ground, a puff of smoke came out of the cliff, and that was all.No change appeared on the face of the rock.They were building a railway.The cliff was not in the way or anything;but this objectless blasting was all the work going on.
“我在路上碰上一个深埋在草丛里的锅炉,又发现了一条通上山的小路。这条路绕开了所有挡道的大石头,以及一节轮子朝天的铁皮火车车厢。其中一个轮子不见了。这节车厢躺在那里一动不动,就像某只动物的尸体一样。一路上我看见更多朽烂的机器和一堆生锈的铁轨。在路的左边,一片树林投下一块浓荫,里面似乎有些什么黑暗的物体在衰弱地蠕动着。我眨眨眼,前面的路很陡。路的右边传来号角声,我看见很多黑人跑过。突然响起一阵沉闷的爆炸声,地动山摇,悬崖上冒出一股烟,然后一切恢复正常。岩石的外表没有发生任何变化。他们正在修铁路。那悬崖并没有挡道,但这种盲目的爆破就是他们的全部工作。”

A slight clinking behind me made me turn my head. Six black men advanced in a fle, toiling up the path.They walked erect and slow, balancing small baskets full of earth on their heads, and the clink kept time with their footsteps.Black rags were wound round their loins, and the short ends behind wagged to and fro like tails.I could see every rib, the joints of their limbs were like knots in a rope;each had an iron collar on his neck, and all were connected together with a chain whose bights swung between them, rhythmically clinking.Another report from the cliff made me think suddenly of that ship of war I had seen firing into a continent.It was the same kind of ominous voice;but these men could by no stretch of imagination be called enemies.They were called criminals, and the outraged law, like the bursting shells, had come to them, an insoluble mystery from over the sea.All the meagre breasts panted together, the violently dilated nostrils quivered, the eyes stared stonily up-hill.They passed me within six inches, without a glance, with that complete, deathlike indifference of unhappy savages.Behind this raw matter one of the reclaimed, the product of the new forces at work, strolled despondently, carrying a rifle by its middle.He had a uniform jacket with one button off, and seeing a white man on the path, hoisted hisweapon on to his shoulder with alacrity.This was simple prudence, white men being so much alike at a distance that he could not tell who I might be.He was speedily reassured, and with a large, white, rascally grin, and a glance at his charge, seemed to take me into partnership in his exalted trust.After all, I also was a part of the great cause of these high and just proceedings.
“我身后传来一阵轻细的叮当声,引得我回过头看。六个黑人排成一排,艰难地沿着小路往上爬。他们挺直身子,慢慢地爬,头上顶着装满土的小篮,小心翼翼,每走一步便是一阵叮当声。他们的腰部缠着黑色的破布,后面垂下短短的一截,像尾巴一样摇来摇去。他们的每条肋骨都清晰可见,四肢的关节就像绳子上打的结。每个人颈上都有一个铁项圈,一条铁链把所有项圈拴在一起,链环在他们之间左摇右晃,发出节奏清晰的叮当声。从悬崖那边又传来一阵爆炸声,我突然想起之前看到过的那艘军舰,向陆地开火的那艘。一样是不吉祥的声音。但再异想天开些,眼前这些人也不会像敌人。他们被称为罪犯,那被忤逆了的法律,就像炸开了的炮弹一样击中了他们,是一个来自海洋的谜,无法解释。他们瘦弱的胸膛全在一起喘着气,撑开了的鼻孔颤抖着,眼光呆滞地盯着山上。他们就这样从我身边经过,离我不到六英寸,没有看我一眼,浑身上下透着土人在遭难时那种完全的冷漠,就好像他们已经死了。在这些生番后面,走着一个已经受过教化的黑人。他是新势力得势后的产物,提着一支来复枪半死不活地慢慢走着。他穿一件掉了一个纽扣的制服外套,看见路上有个白人,连忙把武器举到肩膀。这么做只是慎重起见。隔这么远,白人看起来都是一个样的,他无法分辨我可能是什么人。他很快放下心来,绽开一个大大的笑容,猥琐下流,充分展露了他的白牙。他扫了一眼他负责看管的犯人,仿佛邀请我去和他一起分享这份光荣的职责。毕竟,这项崇高正义的伟业方兴未艾,而我是其中一部分。”

Instead of going up, I turned and descended to the left. My idea was to let that chain-gang get out of sight before I climbed the hill.You know I am not particularly tender;I‘ve had to strike and to fend off.I’ve had to resist and to attack sometimes-that‘s only one way of resisting-without counting the exact cost, according to the demands of such sort of life as I had blundered into.I’ve seen the devil of violence, and the devil of greed, and the devil of hot desire;but, by all the stars!these were strong, lusty, red-eyed devils, that swayed and drove men-men, I tell you.But as I stood on this hillside, I foresaw that in the blinding sunshine of that land I would become acquainted with a fabby, pretending, weak-eyed devil of a rapacious and pitiless folly.How insidious he could be, too, I was only to fnd out several months later and a thousand miles further.For a moment I stood appalled, as though by a warning.Finally I descended the hill, obliquely, towards the trees I had seen.
“我没有往上爬,转身从左边下坡。我这么做,是想等看不见这排锁在铁链里的人之后再上山。我可不是个温婉的家伙,迫不得已的时候我也曾奋起自卫过。有时候我也被逼反抗和进攻——进攻只是一种反抗的方式——这样的一时冲动可能会改变我的人生,带来种种后果,然而我无暇精打细算。我见识过暴力的魔鬼、贪婪的魔鬼和渴望的魔鬼,但是,上天做证!这些魔鬼都强大、健壮和双眼发红,迷惑并奴役着人——是的,是人。但当我站在这个山腰上,我能预见到在那块土地上,夺目的阳光里,我将很快认识一个新的魔鬼,他贪得无厌,笨得要死,满身赘肉,故作姿态,鼠目寸光。再过几个月,再走一千英里,我就能知道他有多么阴毒奸狡。我突然站定了,满心恐惧,好像受到了警告一般。最后我七弯八拐地下了山,去找之前看到的那片树林。”

I avoided a vast, artifcial hole somebody had been digging on the slope, the purpose of which I found it impossible to divine. It wasn‘t a quarry or a sandpit, anyhow.It was just a hole.It might have been connected with the philanthropic desire of giving the criminals something to do.I don’t know.Then I nearly fell into a very narrow ravine, almost no more than a scar in the hillside.I discovered that a lot of imported drainage-pipes for the settlement had been tumbled in there.There wasnt one that was not broken.It was a wanton smash-up.At last I got under the trees.My purpose was to stroll into the shade for a moment;but no soonerwithin than it seemed to me I had stepped into the gloomy circle of some Inferno.The rapids were near, and an uninterrupted, uniform, headlong, rushing noise flled the mournful stillness of the grove, where not a breath stirred, not a leaf moved, with a mysterious sound-as though the tearing pace of the launched earth had suddenly become audible.
“我绕开一个人工挖出来的大洞,那洞好像挖了很久,但挖来干什么,我无从猜测。反正不是采石场或者采沙坑,就只是个洞。也许是有人忽发善心,想要让那些罪犯有事可做吧。我不知道。然后我差点掉进一条非常狭窄的山沟,它不过就像山腰上的一道小疤痕。我发现有很多供居民点使用的排水管被扔在沟里。那可是千里迢迢运来的,现在却没一根是好的。真是一团糟。后来我终于找到了那片树林。我本来是想在树荫下散会儿步的,但一走进去,就好像踏进了某个地狱的一圈阴影里。急流近在咫尺,在寂静得哀伤的小树林里,只听见那阵猛烈的水声,持续不断,单调乏味,急急忙忙。树林里一丝风也没有,所有树叶都凝滞不动,却有那么一阵神秘的声响——仿佛地球那轰轰隆隆的脚步声突然变得清晰可闻。”

Black shapes crouched, lay, sat between the trees, leaning against the trunks, clinging to the earth, half coming out, half effaced within the dim light, in all the attitudes of pain, abandonment, and despair. Another mine on the cliff went off, followed by a slight shudder of the soil under my feet.The work was going on.The work!And this was the place where some of the helpers had withdrawn to die.
“许多黑色的人影蜷伏着、躺着或是倚着树干坐在树与树之间,他们仿佛长在地里,一半暴露在地上,一半隐没在阴影中,做出各种痛苦、听天由命和绝望的姿势。悬崖那边又爆炸了,我脚下的土地一阵轻轻战栗。人们还在那边工作着。工作!那些无法再工作的人,就来这里等死。”

They were dying slowly-it was very clear. They were not enemies, they were not criminals, they were nothing earthly now-nothing but black shadows of disease and starvation, lying confusedly in the greenish gloom.Brought from all the recesses of the coast in all the legality of time contracts, lost in uncongenial surroundings, fed on unfamiliar food, they sickened, became ineffcient, and were then allowed to crawl away and rest.These moribund shapes were free as air-and nearly as thin.I began to distinguish the gleam of eyes under the trees.Then, glancing down, I saw a face near my hand.The black bones reclined at full length with one shoulder against the tree, and slowly the eyelids rose and the sunken eyes looked up at me, enormous and vacant, a kind of blind, white ficker in the depths of the orbs, which died out slowly.The man seemed young-almost a boy-but you know with them it‘s hard to tell.I found nothing else to do but to offer him one of my good Swede’s ships biscuits I had in my pocket.The fngers closed slowly on it and held-there was no other movement and no other glance.He had tied a bit of white worsted round his neck-Why?Where did he get it?Was it a badge-an ornament-a charm-a propitiatory act?Was there any idea at all connected with it?Itlooked startling round his black neck, this bit of white thread from beyond the seas.
“他们正慢慢死去——非常明显。他们不是敌人,他们不是罪犯,他们不再是现世的存在物——什么也不是,只是疾病和饥饿的黑影,乱糟糟地躺在墨绿色的阴影中。通过完全合法的定期合同,有人把他们从沿岸各个隐蔽之处招聘来。他们在这恶劣的环境中茫然无助,食物吃不惯,生了病,无法继续工作,就被允许爬到这里来休息。这些奄奄一息的影子就像空气一样轻飘飘的——也差不多跟空气一样稀薄。我开始看见树下有许多眼睛在泛着光。然后,我低头看时,发现手边有一张脸。一副黑色的人骨挺得笔直,一个肩膀抵着树,眼皮缓缓抬起,凹陷的眼睛翻上来看看我,巨大而空洞,一种盲人似的白光在眼底微微闪烁,慢慢熄灭。似乎还很年轻——几乎是个小孩儿——但很难看出他们的真实年龄。我觉得好像应该做点什么,便从口袋里掏出一块我乘坐的那上好的瑞典船上的饼干给他。他的手指慢慢闭拢起来,抓住了那块饼干——再没有其他动作,也没有再看我一眼。他的脖子上绑着一缕白色的精纺毛线——为什么?他从哪儿得来的?那是一个记号——一种装饰——一个符咒——还是一种祈愿的仪式?它到底有没有含义?这一缕属于海洋彼岸的白毛线,竟然缠在他的脖子上,实在有些格格不入。”

Near the same tree two more, bundles of acute angles, sat with their legs drawn up. One, with his chin propped on his knees, stared at nothing, in an intolerable and appalling manner:his brother phantom rested its forehead, as if overcome with a great weariness;and all about others were scattered in every pose of contorted collapse, as in some picture of a massacre or a pestilence.While I stood horror-struck, one of these creatures rose to his hands and knees, and went off on all-fours towards the river to drink.He lapped out of his hand, then sat up in the sunlight, crossing his shins in front of him, and after a time let his woolly head fall on his breastbone.
“在这棵树旁边,还有两副尖瘦的黑骨头抱膝而坐。其中一个把下巴支在膝盖上,呆呆地瞪着眼睛,那神情恐怖非常,让人不敢多看。他的同伴,另一个幽灵则把额头枕在膝盖上,像被巨大的疲倦打垮了。其他人分散在各处,姿势各异,扭曲着苟延残喘,就像画里面大屠杀或者大瘟疫的场景。我站在那里,震惊得呆若木鸡,忽然一个幽灵用手和膝盖撑起身来,手脚并用,爬向河边喝水。他舔干双手,在阳光中坐起来,盘起双腿,不多久,他那毛茸茸的脑袋便沉沉地垂到胸骨上。”

I didnt want any more loitering in the shade, and I made haste towards the station. When near the buildings I met a white man, in such an unexpected elegance of get-up that in the frst moment I took him for a sort of vision.I saw a high starched collar, white cuffs, a light alpaca jacket, snowy trousers, a clear silk necktie, and varnished boots.No hat.Hair parted, brushed, oiled, under a green-lined parasol held in a big white hand.He was amazing, and had a penholder behind his ear.
“我不愿久留,匆忙逃向贸易站。走近那片建筑物的时候,我碰到一个白人,他的装束出乎意料的优雅,乍一看还以为是幻觉。我看见一个高高的衣领,浆得挺直,干干净净的白袖口,浅色的羊驼毛夹克,雪白的长裤,鲜亮的领带,擦得锃亮的皮靴。他没戴帽子。分头,头发刷得油亮亮的,一只大白手撑着一把绿纹遮阳伞。他真是神奇,耳后还夹着一管自来水笔杆。”

I shook hands with this miracle, and I learned he was the Company‘s chief accountant, and that all the book-keeping was done at this station. He had come out for a moment, he said,’to get a breath of fresh air.‘The expression sounded wonderfully odd, with its suggestion of sedentary desk-life.I wouldn’t have mentioned the fellow to you at all, only it was from his lips that I frst heard the name of the man who is so indissolubly connected with the memories of that time.Moreover, I respected the fellow.Yes;I respected his collars, his vast cuffs, his brushed hair.His appearance was certainly that of a hairdresser‘s dummy;but in the great demoralisation of the land he kept up his appearance.That’s backbone!His starched collars and got-up shirt-fronts were achievements of character.He had been out nearly three years;and, later on, I could not help asking him how he managed to sport such linen.He had just the faintest blush, and said modestly,‘I’ve been teaching one of the native women about the station.It was diffcult.She had a distaste for the work.Thus this man had, verily, accomplished something.And he was devoted to his books, which were in apple-pie order.
“我和这一奇迹握手,得知他是公司的会计主任,公司所有账目都归这个贸易站整理和登记。他溜出来一小会儿,按他的话说,‘出来透透气’。这话听起来奇怪得很,背后是没完没了的案牍生活。要不是我是从他嘴里第一次听到另一个人的名字,而这另一个人又是这段回忆不可或缺的一部分,我根本不会向你们提及他。况且,我也尊敬这个家伙。我尊敬他。我尊敬他的衣领,他那巨大的袖口,他那刷得油亮亮的脑袋。他看起来确实跟理发店橱窗里的假人模特一式一样,但在这样一片毫无生气的土地上,他竟保住了光鲜的外表,多么有骨气!他那浆硬的领子和胸部笔挺的衬衫代表着人格的成就。他到这里来差不多有三年了,我忍不住问他是怎样把衣服打理得那么像样的。他双颊微微泛红,谦虚地说:‘我在教站里的一个土著女人做事。真是不容易,她本来可讨厌这些业务了。’这么说来,这个人还真有点贡献。他也倾尽心思在账簿上,把它们整理得井井有条。”

Everything else in the station was in a muddle-heads, things, buildings. Caravans, strings of dusty niggers with splay feet arrived and departed;a stream of manufactured goods, rubbishy cottons, beads, and brass wire set off into the depths of darkness, and in return came a precious trickle of ivory.
“站里其他的一切都杂乱无章——人啊,物啊,房子啊。商队,一队队八字脚的黑人,风尘仆仆地来来去去,工业产品、劣质的棉花、珠子和铜线络绎不绝地被运进黑暗深处,涓涓细流一般地换回珍稀的象牙。”

I had to wait in the station for ten days-an eternity. I lived in a tent in the yard, but to be out of the chaos I would sometimes get into the accountant‘s office.It was built of horizontal planks, and so badly put together that, as he bent over his high desk, he was barred from neck to heels with narrow strips of sunlight.There was no need to open the big shutter to see.It was hot there too;big flies buzzed fiendishly, and did not sting, but stabbed.I sat generally on the foor, while, of faultless appearance(and even slightly scented),perching on a high stool, he wrote, he wrote.Sometimes he stood up for exercise.When a truckle-bed with a sick man(some invalided’agent‘from up country)was hurriedly put in there, he exhibited a gentle annoyance.’The groans of this sick person,‘he said,’distract my attention.And without that it is extremely diffcult to guard against clerical errors in this climate.
我要在这个贸易站等十天——简直望不到头。我在院子里支了个帐篷住着,但为了避开那片混乱,我有时会躲进会计办公室。那是用横条木板建成的,手工很差,会计主任在高高的书桌上伏案工作的时候,浑身上下满是一条条窄窄的阳光。不用拉开百叶窗也能看到外面。办公室里也很热,大苍蝇恶毒地嗡嗡作响,虽然不叮人,却四处撞人。我一般坐在地上,他则高高地坐在高脚凳上写个不停,一身装束无懈可击(甚至微微生香)。有时他站起来活动筋骨。有人匆匆忙忙地把一张装有脚轮的矮床推进办公室,上面躺着一个病人(某个从内地来的代理人),他表示出微微的恼怒。‘这位病人的呻吟声,’他说,‘使我无法集中精神。在这种气候里,如果不能高度集中精神,算错账是很难避免的。’

One day he remarked, without lifting his head,‘In the interior you will no doubt meet Mr. Kurtz.’On my asking who Mr.Kurtz was, he said he was a first-class agent;and seeing my disappointment at this information, he added slowly, laying down his pen,‘He is a veryremarkable person.’Further questions elicited from him that Mr.Kurtz was at present in charge of a trading-post, a very important one, in the true ivory-country, at‘the very bottom of there.Sends in as much ivory as all the others put together……’He began to write again.The sick man was too ill to groan.The fies buzzed in a great peace.
一天他低着头说:‘在内地,您肯定会见到库尔茨先生。’我问库尔茨先生是何方神圣,他说是个头等的代理人。看见我对这个信息流露出失望之情,他搁下笔,继续慢慢地说:‘他可是个相当了不起的人。’我追问下去,他说库尔茨先生现在负责一个贸易站,那个贸易站可重要了,在真正的象牙之乡,在‘那里的最深处。他送来的象牙跟其他人加起来的一样多……’他又提笔工作。病人虚弱得已经无力呻吟了。在一片巨大的宁静中,只有苍蝇在嗡嗡叫个不停。

Suddenly there was a growing murmur of voices and a great tramping of feet. A caravan had come in.A violent babble of uncouth sounds burst out on the other side of the planks.All the carriers were speaking together, and in the midst of the uproar the lamentable voice of the chief agent was heard‘giving it up’tearfully for the twentieth time that day……He rose slowly.‘What a frightful row,’he said.He crossed the room gently to look at the sick man, and returning, said to me,‘He does not hear.’‘What!Dead?’I asked, startled.‘No, not yet,’he answered, with great composure.Then, alluding with a toss of the head to the tumult in the station-yard,‘When one has got to make correct entries, one comes to hate these savages-hate them to the death!’He remained thoughtful for a moment.‘When you see Mr.Kurtz,’he went on,‘tell him from me that everything here’—he glanced at the desk—‘is very satisfactory.I don’t like to write to him-with those messengers of ours you never know who may get hold of your letter-at that Central Station.‘He stared at me for a moment with his mild, bulging eyes.’Oh, he will go far, very far,‘he began again.’He will be a somebody in the Administration before long.They, above-the Council in Europe, you know-mean him to be.
突然传来一阵越来越大的说话声和沉重有力的脚步声。一个商队进站了。木板的另一边爆发出一阵粗野狂烈的声音,吵吵嚷嚷地不知道在说什么。所有搬运工都在说话,在一片吵闹之中,我们听见站长用悲痛的声音在说:‘我们尽力了。’那句话他那天带着哭腔说了有二十遍……会计主任慢慢起身。‘真是吵死人了。’他说。他轻轻地走到屋子另一边去看看病人,又折回来,对我说:‘他什么都听不见。’‘你说什么!他死了吗?’我问,真是吓坏了。‘不,还没有死。’他不动声色地说。然后,他朝外间的喧闹声甩甩头,暗示道:‘当你不得不把账记清楚的时候,实在是无法不讨厌这些野蛮人——真是烦死他们了!’他思索了一会儿,‘您看见库尔茨先生的时候,’他接着说,‘请告诉他这里的每一件东西’——他斜了桌子一眼——‘都非常令人满意。我不喜欢给他写信——我们的信使都靠不住,天知道他们会把信送到谁手里——在那个中央贸易站。’他用那双温和而突出的眼睛盯着我看了一会儿,‘哦,他前途无限,无可限量,’他又说,‘不久就会变成管理部门的要人。他们,那些高层——欧洲的董事会——很赏识他。’

He turned to his work. The noise outside had ceased, and presently in going out I stopped at the door.In the steady buzz of flies the homeward-bound agent was lying flushed and insensible;the other, bent over his books, was making correct entries of perfectly correct transactions;and ffty feet below the doorstep I could see the still tree-tops of the grove of death.
他继续埋头工作。外面终于安静了。过了一会儿,我要出去,走到门口又停住了。苍蝇还在不知疲倦地嗡嗡叫着,将要被运送回国的代理人躺在那里,脸涨得通红,已然没有了意识。屋子里另一个人正趴在账簿上,清清楚楚地记着账,毫无差错。门阶下方五十英尺的地方,我看得见那片死亡之林寂静不动的树梢。

Next day I left that station at last, with a caravan of sixty men, for a two-hundred-mile tramp.
第二天,我终于跟一个六十个人的商队离开了那个贸易站,开始了一段两百英里长的徒步旅程。

No use telling you much about that. Paths, paths, everywhere;a stamped-in network of paths spreading over an empty land, through long grass, through burnt grass, through thickets, down and up chilly ravines, up and down stony hills ablaze with heat;and a solitude, a solitude, nobody, not a hut.The population had cleared out a long time ago.Well, if a lot of mysterious niggers armed with all kinds of fearful weapons suddenly took to traveling on the road between Deal and Gravesend, catching the yokels right and left to carry heavy loads for them, I fancy every farm and cottage thereabouts would get empty very soon.Only here the dwellings were gone too.Still I passed through several abandoned villages.There‘s something pathetically childish in the ruins of grass walls.Day after day, with the stamp and shuffe of sixty pair of bare feet behind me, each pair under a sixty-pound.load.Camp, cook, sleep, strike camp, march.Now and then a carrier dead in harness, at rest in the long grass near the path, with an empty water-gourd and his long staff lying by his side.A great silence around and above.Perhaps on some quiet night the tremor of far-off drums, sinking, swelling, a tremor vast, faint;a sound weird, appealing, suggestive, and wild-and perhaps with as profound a meaning as the sound of bells in a Christian country.Once a white man in an unbuttoned uniform, camping on the path with an armed escort of lank Zanzibaris, very hospitable and festive-not to say drunk.Was looking after the upkeep of the road, he declared.Can’t say I saw any road or any upkeep, unless the body of a middle-aged negro, with a bullet-hole in the forehead, upon which I absolutely stumbled three miles further on, may be considered as a permanent improvement.I had a white companion too, not a bad chap, but rather too feshy and with the exasperating habit of fainting on the hot hillsides, miles away from the least bit of shade andwater.Annoying, you know, to hold your own coat like a parasol over a man‘s head while he is coming-to.I couldn’t help asking him once what he meant by coming there at all.‘To make money, of course.What do you think?’he said, scornfully.Then he got fever, and had to be carried in a hammock slung under a pole.As he weighed sixteen stone I had no end of rows with the carriers.They jibbed, ran away, sneaked off with their loads in the night-quite a mutiny.So, one evening, I made a speech in English with gestures, not one of which was lost to the sixty pairs of eyes before me, and the next morning I started the hammock off in front all right.An hour afterwards I came upon the whole concern wrecked in a bush-man, hammock, groans, blankets, horrors.The heavy pole had skinned his poor nose.He was very anxious for me to kill somebody, but there wasn‘t the shadow of a carrier near.I remembered the old doctor,—’It would be interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot.‘I felt I was becoming scientifcally interesting.However, all that is to no purpose.On the ffteenth day I came in sight of the big river again, and hobbled into the Central Station.It was on a back water surrounded by scrub and forest, with a pretty border of smelly mud on one side, and on the three others enclosed by a crazy fence of rushes.A neglected gap was all the gate it had, and the frst glance at the place was enough to let you see the flabby devil was running that show.White men with long staves in their hands appeared languidly from amongst the buildings, strolling up to take a look at me, and then retired out of sight somewhere.One of them, a stout, excitable chap with black mustaches, informed me with great volubility and many digressions, as soon as I told him who I was, that my steamer was at the bottom of the river.I was thunderstruck.What, how, why?Oh, it was’all right.‘The’manager himself‘was there.All quite correct.’Everybody had behaved splendidly!splendidly!‘—’you must,‘he said in agitation,’go and see the general manager at once.He iswaiting!
那段旅程没什么好说的。反正到处都是小路。人们踩出来一张路网,网住那片空荡荡的土地,穿过长长的草地,穿过被火烧过的草地,穿过灌木丛,穿越寒冷的峡谷,翻越闪着火光的石山。荒凉又荒凉,一个人也没有,一间茅屋也没有。居民很久之前就跑光了。试想想,如果有很多神秘的黑人,武装着各种可怕的武器,突然开始流窜在迪尔和格雷夫森德之间的大路上,把住在路两旁的英国佬都抓去做搬运工,那一带所有农场和村庄肯定也会很快荒废掉。只是这里连房子都不见了。但我沿途也见到好几个被遗弃的村庄。那些残破不堪的草墙像一种可悲的儿戏。六十双光脚的踏步声和划地声日复一日地跟在我身后,每一双脚上面都有六十磅的重物。扎营,做饭,睡觉,拔营,跋涉。不时一个搬运工背着重物倒下,长眠在路边高高的草丛中,一个空的水葫芦和一根长棍子会陪在他身边。四周和上空是一片逃不出的死寂。也许在某个安静的夜晚,能听见遥远的鼓声,战栗着,沉下去,又响起来,茫茫荒野里的挣扎,软弱无力的。这个怪异的声音,魅惑的,暗示的,野性的——说不定和基督教国家的钟声一样意味深远。有一次我们看见一个白人,制服的纽扣都开了,带着一个高高瘦瘦的桑格巴尔人——他的武装护卫——在路边扎营,他友善而快活——肯定是喝醉了。他声称自己在检查这条马路的养护工作。哪里有什么马路需要养护!他们也什么都没干。倒是前头三英里处有一具中年黑人的尸体,额头被子弹打出一个洞,确实是把我绊了一跤,可能他把这叫作一个永恒的改善。我还有一个白人同伴,人倒不坏,但有点儿胖过头了,有一个不断加剧的毛病:一爬上炎热的山坡就要晕过去,而最近的一点树荫和水源还在好几英里之外。真可恶,我们不得不把外套撑起来给他当遮阳伞,遮住他的头,等他慢慢苏醒。有一次我忍不住问他到底为什么要跑这儿来。‘当然是为了挣钱。不然呢?’他不屑地说。后来他发起烧来,我们只好把他放进吊床,挂在木杆上抬着他走。为此搬运工跟我吵了不知道有多少次,因为他足足重十六英石。他们消极怠工,逃跑,夜里带着行囊偷偷溜走——简直是造反。所以,一个晚上,我比手画脚地用英语发表了演讲,我面前那六十双雪亮的眼睛都明白了我的意思,第二天早晨他们就在我面前乖乖抬着吊床出发了。但一个小时后,我在灌木丛里发现了整个这一切的残骸——那家伙,吊床,呻吟声,毯子,恐惧。沉重的木杆擦破了他的鼻子,真可怜。他非常急切地要求我杀死某个人,但附近连一个搬运工的影子都没有。我记起那个老医生说的话——‘当场密切关注个人精神状态的变化是很有意义的’——我感到我要开始对科学的发展产生意义了。然而我并不觉得那有什么用。在第十五天,我又看见了那条大河,便一瘸一拐地走进了中央贸易站。它坐落在河湾上,藏在灌木丛和森林之中,一面是用臭泥巴做成的边界,破破烂烂的,另外三面被疯长的灯芯草篱笆团团围住,一个没人修整的缺口就是它唯一的门口。一看就知道这里的主管是个窝囊废。几个手里拿着长棍的白人从房子之间懒洋洋地走出来,不紧不慢地晃上来看了我一眼,又走开不见了。其中有一个蓄着黑胡子的胖子,很是大惊小怪,我一告诉他我是谁,他就滔滔不绝、东拉西扯地告诉我,我的汽船沉到河底去了。我仿佛遭到五雷轰顶。什么,怎么回事,为什么?哦,‘没关系。’‘经理本人’就在船上。一切如常。‘每个人的表现都值得表扬!值得表扬!’——‘您务必,’他颤抖着说,‘马上去见经理。他在等您!’

I did not see the real signifcance of that wreck at once. I fancy I see it now, but I am not sure-not at all.Certainly the affair was too stupid-when I think of it-to be altogether natural.Still……But at the moment it presented itself simply as a confounded nuisance.The steamer was sunk.They had started two days before in a sudden hurry up the river with the manager on board, in charge of some volunteer skippe, and before they had been out three hours they tore the bottom out of her on stones, and she sank near the south bank.I asked myself what I was to do there, now my boat was lost.As a matter of fact, I had plenty to do in fishing my command out of the river.I had to set about it the very next day.That, and the repairs when I brought the pieces to the station, took some months.
我一时还不明白船沉了意味着什么。我想我现在明白了,但不敢确定——一点儿也不。这件事情摆明就是太愚蠢了——每当我想起它——简直就蠢得出奇。但……但在那一刻,我就觉得它不过是一件恼人的麻烦事而已。船沉了。他们两天前急急忙忙驾船开往上游,经理也在船上,负责开船的船长是个志愿者。开出去不到三个小时,船底就被石头划开了,船在南岸附近沉没了。我不禁问自己:船都没了,我来这还能做什么?事实上,我要做很多事,以便把归我指挥的那条船捞上来。我必须第二天就出发去开工。把沉船捞上来,运回贸易站修理,要花好几个月的时间。

My first interview with the manager was curious. He did not ask me to sit down after my twenty-mile walk that morning.He was commonplace in complexion, in features, in manners, and in voice.He was of middle size and of ordinary build.His eyes, of the usual blue, were perhaps remarkably cold, and he certainly could make his glance fall on one as trenchant and heavy as an axe.But even at these times the rest of his person seemed to disclaim the intention.Otherwise there was only an indefnable, faint expression of his lips, something stealthy-a smile-not a smile-I remember it, but I can‘t explain.It was unconscious, this smile was, though just after he had said something it got intensifed for an instant.It came at the end of his speeches like a seal applied on the words to make the meaning of the commonest phrase appear absolutely inscrutable.He was a common trader, from his youth up employed in these parts-nothing more.He was obeyed, yet he inspired neither love nor fear, nor even respect.He inspired uneasiness.That was it!Uneasiness.Not a defnite mistrust-just uneasiness-nothing more.You have no idea how effective such a……a……faculty can be.He had no geniusfor organising, for initiative, or for order even.That was evident in such things as the deplorable state of the station.He had no learning, and no intelligence.His position had come to him-why?Perhaps because he was never ill……He had served three terms of three years out there……Because triumphant health in the general rout of constitutions is a kind of power in itself.When he went home on leave he rioted on a large scale-pompously.Jack ashore-with a difference-in externals only.This one could gather from his casual talk.He originated nothing, he could keep the routine going-that’s all.But he was great.He was great by this little thing that it was impossible to tell what could control such a man.He never gave that secret away.Perhaps there was nothing within him.Such a suspicion made one pause-for out there there were no external checks.Once when various tropical diseases had laid low almost every‘agent’in the station, he was heard to say,‘Men who come out here should have no entrails.’He sealed the utterance with that smile of his, as though it had been a door opening into a darkness he had in his keeping.You fancied you had seen things-but the seal was on.When annoyed at meal-times by the constant quarrels of the white men about precedence, he ordered an immense round table to be made, for which a special house had to be built.This was the station‘s mess-room.Where he sat was the frst place-the rest were nowhere.One felt this to be his unalterable conviction.He was neither civil nor uncivil.He was quiet.He allowed his’boy-an overfed young negro from the coast-to treat the white men, under his very eyes, with provoking insolence.
我和经理的第一次会面相当奇怪。当天早上,我走了二十英里的路才见到他,他却没有请我坐。他的表情、五官、仪态和声音都平淡无奇。他不高不矮,不胖不瘦。他那双蓝眼睛的颜色很普通,眼神却冷漠得过分,他盯着人看的时候,无疑能把这眼神变得跟沉重的利斧一样劈向人。但即使是在这些时候,他身体的其余部分却依然平淡如常。此外就只剩下他嘴唇上那种难以捉摸的表情,微乎其微,总有点鬼鬼祟祟,似笑非笑的,我到现在还记得清清楚楚,但解释不了。它不是故意的,这种微笑,尽管他每说完一次话,它又变明显一些。他一闭嘴,它就出现,就像拿封印把话封住一样,哪怕只是最平常的话,也弄得绝对不可理解似的。他是个普通的商人,从年轻时起就受聘在这些地区工作——从来没干过别的。大家都听他指挥,然而他没有令别人爱上他或是害怕他,大家对他甚至连尊敬都谈不上。他只能令人感到浑身不自在。就是这话!浑身不自在。也不是明确的不信任——只是浑身不自在——仅此而已。你们不知道这样一帮……一帮……职员的效率有多么低下。他没有组织能力、创新能力,甚至连好好发号施令都不会。他把这个可怜的贸易站搞得乌烟瘴气,就是最好的证明。他没有学问,智力低下。他居然被提拔为经理——怎么会这样?大概就是因为他从来不生病……他在那里熬过了三个三年的聘期……在人人都生病的地方,强健的体魄本身就是一种力量。他每次休假回家都会去大肆寻欢作乐一番。跟上了岸的水手似的——当然他不一样——只不过他的外表光鲜一些。这一点从他不经意的闲谈中也听得出来。他墨守成规,但能够保持日常工作的正常运转——他只有这点本事。但他是个了不起的人物。没人知道有什么可以控制得了这样一个人,光这一点就足以令他了不起。他从来不泄露个中秘密。也许他身体里空无一物。但这种怀疑永远无法证实——在那个地方没法做外科检查。有一次,多种热带疾病突然暴发,站里几乎所有‘代理人’都病倒了,却有人听到他说:‘出来这里的人就不应该有内脏。’他又用那种奇怪的笑容封印住这句话,仿佛那是一扇开往黑暗世界的大门,而他恰好是看门人。仿佛看到点儿什么——但门马上就关上了。那些白人吃饭的时候老是为了谁坐上座吵个不停,把他吵烦了,他就命令人做了一张巨大的圆桌,做好了没地方摆得下,就又另外盖了一间屋子。贸易站的食堂就是这么来的。他坐的地方就是首席——剩下的,坐哪里都一样。人们觉得他就是怀有这种信念,坚定不移的。他既不文雅也不粗野。他很安静。他允许他的‘跟班’——一个来自海岸地区的青年黑人,被养得肥头大耳的——就在他眼皮底下对那些白人粗暴无礼、兴风作浪。

He began to speak as soon as he saw me. I had been very long on the road.He could not wait.Had to start without me.The up-river stations had to be relieved.There had been so many delays already that he did not know who was dead and who was alive, and how they got on-and so on, and so on.He paid no attention to my explanations, and, playing with astick of sealing-wax, repeated several times that the situation was‘very grave, very grave.’There were rumours that a very important station was in jeopardy, and its chief, Mr.Kurtz, was ill.Hoped it was not true.Mr.Kurtz was……I felt weary and irritable.Hang Kurtz, I thought.I interrupted him by saying I had heard of Mr.Kurtz on the coast.‘Ah!So they talk of him down there,’he murmured to himself.Then he began again, assuring me Mr.Kurtz was the best agent he had, an exceptional man, of the greatest importance to the Company;therefore I could understand his anxiety.He was, he said,‘very, very uneasy.’Certainly he fdgeted on his chair a good deal, exclaimed,‘Ah, Mr.Kurtz!’broke the stick of sealing-wax and seemed dumbfounded by the accident.Next thing he wanted to know‘how long it would take to—’I interrupted him again.Being hungry, you know, and kept on my feet too, I was getting savage.‘How could I tell?’I said.‘I hadn’t even seen the wreck yet-some months, no doubt.‘All this talk seemed to me so futile.’Some months,‘he said.’Well, let us say three months before we can make a start.Yes.That ought to do the affair.‘I fung out of his hut(he lived all alone in a clay hut with a sort of verandah)muttering to myself my opinion of him.He was a chattering idiot.Afterwards I took it back when it was borne upon me startlingly with what extreme nicety he had estimated the time requisite for the’affair.
他一见到我就说个不停。我走得太慢了。他等不起,只好先开船。上游的贸易站急需物资供应。已经耽搁得太久,他都不知道哪个死了,哪个还活着,他们情况如何——等等,等等。他完全不听我解释,摆弄着一根封口蜡棒,重复了好几次说形势‘非常严峻,非常严峻’。有流言说一个非常重要的贸易站情况危急,站长库尔茨先生也病倒了。希望不是真的。库尔茨先生是……我累坏了,烦躁得要命。让库尔茨去死吧,我想。我打断他说我在岸上对库尔茨先生有所听闻。‘啊!他们在下游地区也谈论他啊。’他嘟嘟囔囔地自言自语。然后他又开始说个没完,向我保证库尔茨先生是他手底下最好的代理人,非凡卓绝,公司决不能没有他,这样我应该理解他为什么这么焦虑了吧。他说自己真是‘非常,非常担忧’。确实,他在椅子上不停地扭来扭去,大声喊道:‘啊,库尔茨先生!’把封口蜡棒都掰断了,却又被这个意外事件吓住了。接下来他想知道‘需要花多长时间去’……我又打断他。我快饿死了,又站了那么久,丧失了耐性。‘你问我,我问谁去?’我说,‘我还没见到那条沉船呢——好几个月吧,短不了。’这场对话对我来说真是浪费时间。‘好几个月,’他说,‘好吧,那我们三个月后就可以出发了。好。这件工作三个月足够了。’我气呼呼地从他的小屋出来(他自己住一间小泥屋,屋外还带一条简陋的走廊),一边自己向自己咕哝着对他的看法。他是个唠唠叨叨的傻瓜。日后我收回了这句话,因为他对这件‘工作’需要的时间估计得一丝不差,真是惊人。

I went to work the next day, turning, so to speak, my back on that station. In that way only it seemed to me I could keep my hold on the redeeming facts of life.Still, one must look about sometimes;and then I saw this station, these men strolling aimlessly about in the sunshine of the yard.I asked myself sometimes what it all meant.They wandered here and there with their absurd long staves in their hands, like a lot of faithless pilgrims bewitched inside a rotten fence.The word‘ivory’rang in the air, was whispered, was sighed.You would think they were praying to it.A taint of imbecile rapacity blew through it all, like a whiff fromsome corpse.By Jove!Ive never seen anything so unreal in my life.And outside, the silent wilderness surrounding this cleared speck on the earth struck me as something great and invincible, like evil or truth, waiting patiently for the passing away of this fantastic invasion.
第二天我就开工了。可以说我把贸易站抛诸脑后。我觉得只有那样我才能紧紧抓住实实在在的生活,弥补这一段时间的空虚感。然而,人总是会开小差东张西望的。然后我看见了那个贸易站,那些男人在院子里的阳光底下漫无目的地逛来逛去。有时我问自己,他们这是在干什么。他们拿着滑稽的长棍子,魂不守舍地走来走去,就像很多变了节的朝圣者,被鬼勾了魂,在那个破篱笆里来回打转。‘象牙’这个词在空气中回荡,他们低声念叨着它,叹息里也全是它,真的像在向它祈祷似的。到处隐隐弥漫着一丝愚蠢而贪婪的气味,就像尸体发出的臭味。天啊!我从未见过如此不真实的景象。贸易站外,那片寂静无声的荒野紧紧包围着这一小块开拓出来的地方,在我看来是那么伟大而不容对抗,就像邪恶或真理一样。它不急不躁地,等待这一次疯狂的侵略自行结束。

Oh, these months!Well, never mind. Various things happened.One evening a grass shed full of calico, cotton prints, beads, and I don‘t know what else, burst into a blaze so suddenly that you would have thought the earth had opened to let an avenging fre consume all that trash.I was smoking my pipe quietly by my dismantled steamer, and saw them all cutting capers in the light, with their arms lifted high, when the stout man with moustaches came tearing down to the river, a tin pail in his hand, assured me that everybody was’behaving splendidly, splendidly,dipped about a quart of water and tore back again.I noticed there was a hole in the bottom of his pail.
哦,那几个月!好吧,别提了。后来又发生了很多事。一个晚上,一个装满白棉布、印花棉布、玻璃珠的草棚,不知道还有没有放别的,突然着火,仿佛地球突然裂开,放出一团复仇之火来,要把那些垃圾统统烧掉。我在那拆开了的汽船旁边安静地抽着烟斗,看见他们都在火光中跳来跳去,高举双臂,那个蓄着胡子的胖男人拿着水桶猛冲向河边,一边还不忘向我保证说每个人都‘值得表扬,值得表扬!’打起一夸脱左右的水又猛冲回去。我注意到他的桶底有个窟窿。

I strolled up. There was no hurry.You see the thing had gone off like a box of matches.It had been hopeless from the very frst.The fame had leaped high, driven everybody back, lighted up everything-and collapsed.The shed was already a heap of embers glowing fiercely.A nigger was being beaten near by.They said he had caused the fre in some way;be that as it may, he was screeching most horribly.I saw him, later on, for several days, sitting in a bit of shade looking very sick and trying to recover himself:afterwards he arose and went out-and the wilderness without a sound took him into its bosom again.As I approached the glow from the dark I found myself at the back of two men, talking.I heard the name of Kurtz pronounced, then the words,‘take advantage of this unfortunate accident.’One of the men was the manager.I wished him a good evening.‘Did you ever see anything like it-eh?it is incredible,’he said, and walked off.The other man remained.He was a first-class agent, young, gentlemanly, a bit reserved, with a forked little beard and ahooked nose.He was stand-offsh with the other agents, and they on their side said he was the manager‘s spy upon them.As to me, I had hardly ever spoken to him before.We got into talk, and by and bye we strolled away from the hissing ruins.Then he asked me to his room, which was in the main building of the station.He struck a match, and I perceived that this young aristocrat had not only a silver-mounted dressing-case but also a whole candle all to himself.Just at that time the manager was the only man supposed to have any right to candles.Native mats covered the clay walls;a collection of spears, assegais, shields, knives was hung up in trophies.The business entrusted to this fellow was the making of bricks-so I had been informed;but there wasn’t a fragment of a brick anywhere in the station, and he had been there more than a year-waiting.It seems he could not make bricks without something, I dont know what-straw maybe.Anyways, it could not be found there, and as it was not likely to be sent from Europe, it did not appear clear to me what he was waiting for.An act of special creation perhaps.However, they were all waiting-all the sixteen or twenty pilgrims of them-for something;and upon my word it did not seem an uncongenial occupation, from the way they took it, though the only thing that ever came to them was disease-as far as I could see.They beguiled the time by backbiting and intriguing against each other in a foolish kind of way.There was an air of plotting about that station, but nothing came of it, of course.It was as unreal as everything else-as the philanthropic pretence of the whole concern, as their talk, as their government, as their show of work.The only real feeling was a desire to get appointed to a trading-post where ivory was to be had, so that they could earn percentages.They intrigued and slandered and hated each other only on that account-but as to effectually lifting a little fnger-oh, no.By heavens!there is something after all in the world allowing one man to steal a horse while another must not look at a halter.Steal a horsestraight out.Very well.He has done it.Perhaps he can ride.But there is a way of looking at a halter that would provoke the most charitable of saints into a kick.
我慢慢走上前去。急也没用,那草棚像盒火柴一样烧得一发不可收拾。从一开始就毫无希望。火焰蹿得高高的,把所有人都挡了回去,照亮了一切——然后猛然熄灭了。草棚已经被烧成一堆灼热的灰烬。他们在一旁打一个黑人,据说这次失火都怪他。就算真的是他,他叫得也太凄惨了些。过后我看见他连续几天坐在一片小小的树荫下,奄奄一息的样子,努力挣扎着想康复;后来他站起来走了——荒野无声无息地把他吞了回去。我从黑暗走近那堆余烬的时候,发现前面有两个人在聊天。我听见他们提到库尔茨的名字,又听见什么‘利用这次不幸的事故’之类的话。其中一个是经理,我向他道了夜安。‘你之前有碰到过这样的事情吗——啊?真不敢相信。’他说,然后走开了。另一个男人留在原地。他是一个头等的代理人,年轻,彬彬有礼,略带矜持,蓄着八字胡,长着鹰钩鼻。他刻意和其他代理人保持距离,他们私下里说他是经理派来监视他们的密探。我呢,我之前没怎么跟他说过话。我们开始交谈,慢慢从发着嘶嘶声的废墟前走开去。他请我去他位于贸易站主楼内的房间。他划亮一根火柴,我注意到这个年轻的贵族不仅有一个镶银的化妆盒,还能一个人用一整根蜡烛——那时就只有经理有点蜡烛的权利。墙上覆着当地的草垫,还挂着许多战利品:长矛、非洲梭枪、盾牌和刀子。这位先生负责制砖的业务——别人是这么跟我说的,但站里连砖头的碎块都找不着,而他在那里都有一年多了——一直在等。似乎没有某些材料就不能制砖,我不知道是什么——说不定是麦秆。无论如何,那里是没有麦秆的,也不太可能从欧洲运来,所以我也弄不明白他到底在等什么。也许是某个奇迹吧。然而,他们全部人都一直在等——那十六个还是二十个朝圣者。说真的,从他们的工作态度来看,他们应该并不觉得这份工作有多么糟糕,尽管他们唯一要做的事好像就只是生病——据我所知。他们通过愚蠢地相互中伤和酝酿谋害同伴的计划来消磨时间。贸易站里总是疑云密布——当然没有哪个阴谋被付诸实践。这片疑云就像站里其他的一切那样不真实——与这个公司的慈善外衣、人们虚伪的谈话、公司的管理制度和人们在工作中的表现一样。唯一真实的,是被委派到贸易站当负责人的渴望。贸易站可能有象牙,他们可以通过买卖象牙获得分成。他们相互仇恨,相互设计陷害,相互中伤,都只是由于这个缘故——但如果你要叫他们动动手指头做点什么正经事——别做梦。天啊!世上毕竟有这么一样东西,允许一个人偷一匹马,却不许另一个人对缰绳产生非分之想。直接把马偷走吧。很好。他照做了。说不定他会骑马呢!但有时如果有人望一眼缰绳,也会惹得最慈悲为怀的大圣人勃然大怒。

I had no idea why he wanted to be so sociable, but as we chatted in there it suddenly occurred to me the fellow was trying to get at something-in fact, pumping me. He alluded constantly to Europe, to the people I was supposed to know there-putting leading questions as to my acquaintances in the sepulchral city, and so on.His little eyes glittered like mica discs-with curiosity-though he tried to keep up a bit of superciliousness.At frst I was astonished, but very soon I became also awfully curious to see what he would fnd out from me.I couldnt possibly imagine what I had in me to make it worth his while.It was very pretty to see how he baffed himself, for in truth my body was full of chills, and my head had nothing in it but that wretched steamboat business.It was evident he took me for a perfectly shameless prevaricator.At last he got angry, and, to conceal a movement of furious annoyance, he yawned.I rose.Then I noticed a small sketch in oils, on a panel, representing a woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch.The background was sombre-almost black.The movement of the woman was stately, and the effect of the torchlight on the face was sinister.
我不知道他为什么要跟我说那么多话,但谈着谈着,我突然想到这家伙心怀鬼胎——实际上,在套我的话。他反复拐弯抹角地提到欧洲,提到我可能在那里认识的人——用问题引我说话,引我说起那个死城里的熟人之类的。他的小眼睛好像两片闪闪发亮的云母片——充满好奇——尽管他努力装出一副爱理不理的样子。刚开始我还挺惊讶的,但很快又感到很好奇,想看看他到底想打探什么消息。我完全想象不出自己藏了什么话,值得他花这么多心机去打探。看着他在费尽心思地让自己失望,真的很有趣。因为其实我肚子里只有一股寒气,我的脑子里也只有那条倒霉的汽船。很明显,他把我当成了恬不知耻的大骗子。最后他生气了,为了遮掩一个怒火中烧的举动,他打了个呵欠。我站起身。然后我注意到在房门的嵌板上钉着一幅小小的油画草图,画的是一个女人,披着布,蒙着眼,拿一个燃烧着的火把。背景一片灰暗——近乎漆黑。那女人的动作庄严神圣,火把的光芒映在她的脸上,很是邪恶凶险。

It arrested me, and he stood by, civilly holding an empty half-pint champagne bottle(medical comforts)with the candle stuck in it. To my question he said Mr.Kurtz had painted this-in this very station more than a year ago-while waiting for means to go to his trading-post.‘Tell me, pray,’said I,‘who is this Mr.Kurtz?’
我被那幅画迷住了。他客客气气地站在一旁,手里托着一个空的半品脱香槟瓶(用于宁神静气),瓶口插着一根蜡烛。我向他问起这幅画,他说是库尔茨先生画的——在这个贸易站的时候,一年多之前——在等待合适的交通工具前往他的贸易站那会儿。‘告诉我,老兄,’我说,‘库尔茨先生是谁?’

‘The chief of the Inner Station,’he answered in a short tone, looking away.‘Much obliged,’I said, laughing.‘And you are the brickmaker of the Central Station. Every one knows that.’He was silent for a while.‘He is a prodigy,’he said at last.‘He is an emissary of pity, and science, and progress, and devil knows what else.We want,’he began to declaim suddenly,‘for the guidance of the cause entrusted to us by Europe, so to speak, higher intelligence, wide sympathies, a singleness of purpose.’‘Who says that?’I asked.‘Lots of them,’he replied.‘Some even write that;and so he comes here, a special being, as you ought to know.’‘Why ought I to know?’I interrupted, really surprised.He paid no attention.‘Yes.To-day he is chief of the best station, next year he will be assistant-manager, two years more and……but I dare say you know what he will be in two years’time.You are of the new gang-the gang of virtue.The same people who sent him specially also recommended you.Oh, don‘t say no.I’ve my own eyes to trust.‘Light dawned upon me.My dear aunt’s infuential acquaintances were producing an unexpected effect upon that young man.I nearly burst into a laugh.‘Do you read the Company’s confidential correspondence?‘I asked.He hadn’t a word to say.It was great fun.‘When Mr.Kurtz,’I continued severely,‘is General Manager, you won’t have the opportunity.
‘内地贸易站的站长。’他简短地说,别过脸去。‘受教了,’我笑着说,‘而您是中央贸易站的制砖负责人。大家都知道。’他沉默了片刻。‘他是个天才,’他终于开口说道,‘他是慈悲、科学和进步的使者。鬼才知道他还是什么。我们想要的是,’他突然开始慷慨陈词,‘为了使欧洲那边委托给我们的事业能得到更好的指导,比方说,更高明的才智、广泛的同情心和团结一致的目标。’‘这是谁说的?’我问。‘他们很多人都这么说,’他回答,‘还有人把这些话写在文章里,于是他来了。他可是个特殊人物,这点您应该也是知道的吧。’‘我凭什么知道?’我打断他,惊讶极了。他没理我。‘是的,现在他掌管着最好的贸易站,明年就会变成副经理,再过两年……但我确定您知道两年后他会变成怎样。您属于新派——美德派。特意把他派来的人又推荐了您。哦,您别否认。我相信自己的眼睛。’我现在明白了。我那亲爱的姨妈果然有一些有权有势的朋友,现在这些朋友开始对这个年轻人产生了意料之外的效果。我差点哈哈大笑起来。‘您也看公司的内部通讯?’我问。他无话可说。太好玩了。‘等库尔茨先生,’我板起脸继续说道,‘当了总经理,您就没戏了。’

He blew the candle out suddenly, and we went outside. The moon had risen.Black figures strolled about listlessly, pouring water on the glow, whence proceeded a sound of hissing;steam ascended in the moonlight, the beaten nigger groaned somewhere.‘What a row the brute makes!’said the indefatigable man with the moustaches, appearing near us.‘Serve him right.Transgression-punishment-bang!Pitiless, pitiless.That’s the only way.This will prevent all confagrations for the future.I was just telling the manager……‘He noticed my companion, and became crestfallen all at once.’Not in bed yet,‘he said, with a kind of servile heartiness;’it‘s so natural.Ha!Danger-agitation.’He vanished.I went on to the river-side, and the other followed me.I heard a scathing murmur at my ear,‘Heap of muffs-go to.’The pilgrims could be seen in knots gesticulating, discussing.Several had still their staves in theirhands.I verily believe they took these sticks to bed with them.Beyond the fence the forest stood up spectrally in the moonlight, and through the dim stir, through the faint sounds of that lamentable courtyard, the silence of the land went home to one‘s very heart-its mystery, its greatness, the amazing reality of its concealed life.The hurt nigger moaned feebly somewhere near by, and then fetched a deep sigh that made me mend my pace away from there.I felt a hand introducing itself under my arm.’My dear sir,‘said the fellow,’I don‘t want to be misunderstood, and especially by you, who will see Mr.Kurtz long before I can have that pleasure.I wouldn’t like him to get a false idea of my disposition……
他冷不丁地吹灭了蜡烛,我们一同走出屋子。月亮已经升了起来。黑暗的人影无精打采地四处乱窜,把水泼在不断嘶嘶作响的余烬上。月光下升起缕缕蒸汽,那个遭毒打的黑人在某个地方呻吟着。‘这畜生真会捅乱子!’那个精力旺盛的八字胡先生边说边向我们走过来。‘打得好!犯法——惩罚——砰!不能心软,不能心软。只能这么办。这才能防止日后再发生严重的火灾。我刚才还跟经理说……’他看清了我的同伴,马上老实了,‘您还没睡呢,’他说,带着一种奴颜媚骨的热情,‘太正常了。哈!危险——焦虑。’连忙溜走了。我继续走向河边,我的同伴跟随着我。耳边隐隐传来一句刺耳的话:‘一群笨蛋——该死。’那些朝圣者们三五成群聚在一起,手舞足蹈地发表着议论,有几个还拿着他们的棍子。我真的相信他们睡觉都拿着棍子。在篱笆的外面,月光下的森林仿佛一群狰狞的鬼怪,大地的寂静穿透了昏暗中的骚动,穿透了这个可悲的院子里发出的轻响,直达人的心底——它的不可知,它的浩荡,它隐含的生命的惊人真相。受伤的黑人在我们身边某处微弱地呻吟着,又深深地叹了一口气,我听不下去,加快脚步走开去。我感到有一只手探到我的手臂底下。‘我亲爱的先生,’那个家伙说,‘我不想别人误解我,尤其是您,因为您很快就会有幸见到库尔茨先生,而我还要等很久。我不想让他错误地以为我另有所图……’

“I let him run on, this papier-maché Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe.He, don‘t you see, had been planning to be assistant-manager by and bye under the present man, and I could see that the coming of that Kurtz had upset them both not a little.He talked precipitately, and I did not try to stop him.I had my shoulders against the wreck of my steamer, hauled up on the slope like a carcass of some big river animal.The smell of mud, of primeval mud, by Jove!was in my nostrils, the high stillness of primeval forests was before my eyes;there were shiny patches on the black creek.The moon had spread over everything a thin layer of silver-over the rank grass, over the mud, upon the wall of matted vegetation standing higher than the wall of a temple, over the great river I could see through a sombre gap glittering, glittering, as it fowed broadly by without a murmur.All this was great, expectant, mute, while the man jabbered about himself.I wondered whether the stillness on the face of the immensity looking at us two were meant as an appeal or as a menace.What were we who had strayed in here?Could we handle that dumb thing, or would it handle us?I felt how big, how confoundedly big, was that thing that couldn’ttalk, and perhaps was deaf as well.What was in there?I could see a little ivory coming out from there, and I had heard Mr.Kurtz was in there.I had heard enough about it too-God knows!Yet somehow it didn‘t bring any image with it-no more than if I had been told an angel or a fiend was in there.I believed it in the same way one of you might believe there are inhabitants in the planet Mars.I knew once a Scotch sailmaker who was certain, dead sure, there were people in Mars.If you asked him for some idea how they looked and behaved, he would get shy and mutter something about’walking on all-fours.‘If you as much as smiled, he would-though a man of sixty-offer to fght you.I would not have gone so far as to fght for Kurtz, but I went for him near enough to a lie.You know I hate, detest, and can’t bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me.There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies-which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world-what I want to forget.It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do.Temperament, I suppose.Well, I went near enough to it by letting the young fool there believe anything he liked to imagine as to my infuence in Europe.I became in an instant as much of a pretence as the rest of the bewitched pilgrims.This simply because I had a notion it somehow would be of help to that Kurtz whom at the time I did not see-you understand.He was just a word for me.I did not see the man in the name any more than you do.Do you see him?Do you see the story?Do you see anything?It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream-making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams……”
“我任由这个纸糊的靡菲斯特滔滔不绝地讲下去,仿佛如果我使点劲儿就能用食指戳穿他,并很可能发现里面除了几点污垢之外什么都没有。这下你们明白了吧?这家伙一心想着好好巴结当时的经理,好慢慢爬上副经理的位置,但那个库尔茨半路杀了出来,打乱了他们的如意算盘。他仓促地说个不停,我也没想打断他。我把肩膀倚在汽船的残骸上。我们把它打捞上来,放在岸边的斜坡上,好像它是一只大河怪的尸体。扑鼻的泥土味——远古时期的泥土,天啊!高高的原始森林一动不动地立在眼前,黑色的小溪上泛起块块亮光。月亮把一层薄薄的银纱覆在万物之上——在杂草上,在泥上,在比庙墙还要高的乱林上,在那条大河上——那条河是如此宽广,静静流淌着,在一个幽暗的缺口之外闪烁生辉。一切都很美好,生机涌动,安然无声,而那个家伙竟一直在啰里啰唆地为自己解释。我在想,这片广袤无垠的荒野一脸沉静地望着我们二人,似是有所请求,又像在发出威胁。迷途至此的我们到底是什么?我们能够操控这个哑巴一样的庞然巨物吗?还是将臣服于它?这一个没有嘴巴,说不定连耳朵都没有的巨物,是如此庞大,庞大得深不见底。那里面究竟藏了什么?我可以看到一点象牙从深处流出,听说库尔茨先生就在那里。我实在听够库尔茨这个名字了——上天做证!然而不知怎的他还没有形成一个具体的形象——就好像我不过是听见说那里面有一个天使或者一个魔鬼。这种情况就像听到有人说火星上有居民一样,信不信由你。我认识一个苏格兰的修帆工,他拍胸脯保证说火星上有人,但如果你问他火星人长什么样,言谈举止如何,他会马上涨红了脸,含含糊糊地说什么‘用四条腿走路’。要是你敢笑,他就会——尽管都六十岁了——跟你打起来。我不会为了库尔茨跟人打架,但却是因为他,我差一点撒了谎。我是最恨别人撒谎的,太可恶了,我受不了。不是因为我比其他人正直,只是因为谎言使我恐惧。谎言总带着一丝死亡的阴影,说得人满嘴腐臭——这世上我最讨厌和最憎恨的莫过于此——我真想把它彻底忘掉。它让我痛苦、恶心,就像一口咬到腐烂的食物。我想这是一种天性。好吧,我放任那个年轻人天马行空地幻想我在欧洲的影响力,也差不多是在撒谎了。刹那间我也学会了虚张声势,就跟那些深受蛊惑的朝圣者一样。这仅仅是因为我突然产生了一个想法,这么做可能对于当时与我素未谋面的库尔茨多少有点好处——你们能理解吧。那时他对我而言只是一个名字。你们看得见他吗?你们看得见这个故事吗?你们看得见任何东西吗?我好像在对你们说一个梦——真是吃力不讨好,因为梦里的感受是无从通过语言传递的。挣扎着想反抗,浑身颤抖,铺天盖地的荒诞、惊奇和迷乱相互交织,总感觉要被一种超自然的力量抓住,这些感受才是梦的本质……”

He was silent for a while.
他沉默了片刻。

“……No, it is impossible;it is impossible to convey the life-sensationof any given epoch of ones existence-that which makes its truth, its meaning-its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible.We live, as we dream-alone……”
“……不,那不可能。人生中某一段时期的感受是无法转述的,正是这种感受,构成了人生的真相和意义——人生的本质,微妙而贯穿始终。不可能的。人生如梦——一样的孤独……”

He paused again as if refecting, then added—
他又停下来,好像在思考,然后接下去说——

“Of course in this you fellows see more than I could then. You see me, whom you know……”
“当然,对于当时的情况,你们这些家伙比当时的我要看得清楚一些。你们很了解我的为人……”

It had become so pitch dark that we listeners could hardly see one another. For a long time already he, sitting apart, had been no more to us than a voice.There was not a word from anybody.The others might have been asleep, but I was awake.I listened, I listened on the watch for the sentence, for the word, that would give me the clue to the faint uneasiness inspired by this narrative that seemed to shape itself without human lips in the heavy night-air of the river.
天已经很暗了,我们这些听众几乎看不见彼此。已经有很长的一段时间,独自坐在一旁的他对我们而言只剩下一个声音。其他人都悄无声息,可能都已经昏昏睡去,我却还醒着。我还在听,一直在听,字字句句都留心着,寻求着蛛丝马迹,以求解释为什么这个故事引起了我隐约的不安。它似乎不是从双唇流出的,而是在这条沉重的河流上空,那稠滞的夜色中自行上演。

“……Yes-I let him run on,”Marlow began again,and think what he pleased about the powers that were behind me. I did!And there was nothing behind me!There was nothing but that wretched, old, mangled steamboat I was leaning against, while he talked fluently about‘the necessity for every man to get on.’‘And when one comes out here, you conceive, it is not to gaze at the moon.’Mr.Kurtz was a‘universal genius,’but even a genius would find it easier to work with‘adequate tools-intelligent men.’He did not make bricks-why, there was a physical impossibility in the way-as I was well aware;and if he did secretarial work for the manager, it was because‘no sensible man rejects wantonly the confidence of his superiors.’Did I see it?I saw it.What more did I want?What I really wanted was rivets, by heaven!Rivets.To get on with the work-to stop the hole.Rivets I wanted.There were cases of them down at the coast-cases-piled up-burst-split!You kicked a loose rivet at every second step in that station yard on the hillside.Rivets had rolled into the grove of death.You could fll your pockets with rivetsfor the trouble of stooping down-and there wasnt one rivet to be found where it was wanted.We had plates that would do, but nothing to fasten them with.And every week the messenger, a lone negro, letter-bag on shoulder and staff in hand, left our station for the coast.And several times a week a coast caravan came in with trade goods-ghastly glazed calico that made you shudder only to look at it, glass beads value about a penny a quart, confounded spotted cotton handkerchiefs.And no rivets.Three carriers could have brought all that was wanted to set that steamboat afoat.
“……是的——我任他往下说,”马洛又开始了,随他想象我有什么靠山。管他呢!但其实我什么靠山都没有!除了身后那条又旧又可怜的破汽船。当他夸夸其谈着什么‘每一个人都必须努力升职’,‘人们不是,您也知道,来这儿看月亮的’。库尔茨先生是一个‘无所不能的天才’,但就算是天才,和‘合适的工具——聪明的人’一起工作也会轻松得多。他并没有制砖——为什么呢?因为有不可抗力——我应该很清楚才对。而说到他为经理做秘书做的工作,那是因为‘哪个理智的人会不知轻重地辜负上司的信任呢?’我明白了吗?明白了。我还想怎样?我想要铆钉,天啊!铆钉。我要继续我的工作——我要把船底的洞补上。我要铆钉。海岸那边有成箱成箱的铆钉——那么多箱——山一样堆着——箱子都要撑破了——简直要爆炸!在山腰上那个贸易站的院子里,走一步就能踢飞一个铆钉。铆钉都滚到那片死亡之林里去了。只要你不嫌弯腰麻烦,就能用铆钉装满口袋——而在需要铆钉的地方却一颗也找不到。我们有钢板,但没有东西固定它们。每周,那个形单影只的黑人信使都会扛起一个大邮袋,拿着一根棍子,从我们的贸易站出发去岸边。而岸边的大篷车每周几次载来各色贸易商品——暗无光泽的印花布,看一眼吓一跳,令人反感;一夸脱卖一便士左右的玻璃珠子;还有印着怪异圆点的棉手帕。没有铆钉。三个搬运工就可以把我需要的铆钉全部运来,让汽船再次浮起来。

He was becoming confidential now, but I fancy my unresponsive attitude must have exasperated him at last, for he judged it necessary to inform me he feared neither God nor devil, let alone any mere man. I said I could see that very well, but what I wanted was a certain quantity of rivets-and rivets were what really Mr.Kurtz wanted, if he had only known it.Now letters went to the coast every week……‘My dear sir,’he cried,‘I write from dictation.’I demanded rivets.There was a way-for an intelligent man.He changed his manner;became very cold, and suddenly began to talk about a hippopotamus;wondered whether sleeping on board the steamer(I stuck to my salvage night and day)I wasn‘t disturbed.There was an old hippo that had the bad habit of getting out on the bank and roaming at night over the station grounds.The pilgrims used to turn out in a body and empty every rife they could lay hands on at him.Some even had sat up o’nights for him.All this energy was wasted, though.‘That animal has a charmed life,’he said;‘but you can say this only of brutes in this country.No man-you apprehend me?—no man here bears a charmed life.’He stood there for a moment in the moonlight with his delicate hooked nose set a little askew, and his mica eyes glittering without a wink, then, with a curt Good night, he strode off.I could see he was disturbed and considerably puzzled, which made me feel more hopeful than I had been for days.It was a great comfortto turn from that chap to my infuential friend, the battered, twisted, ruined, tin-pot steamboat.I clambered on board.She rang under my feet like an empty Huntley&Palmers biscuit-tin kicked along a gutter;she was nothing so solid in make, and rather less pretty in shape, but I had expended enough hard work on her to make me love her.No influential friend would have served me better.She had given me a chance to come out a bit-to fnd out what I could do.No, I don‘t like work.I had rather laze about and think of all the fne things that can be done.I don’t like work-no man does-but I like what is in the work-the chance to fnd yourself.Your own reality-for yourself, not for others-what no other man can ever know.They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.
他对我的态度越来越亲热,但我猜我那漠不关心的态度肯定终于触怒了他,因为他决定有必要让我知道,他连上帝或魔鬼都不怕,更何况区区一个普通人。我说我看得出来他是很勇敢的,但我想要的是一些铆钉——如果库尔茨先生知道这里的情况,他也会需要铆钉。现在每周都有人送信去岸边……‘我亲爱的先生,’他喊道,‘我的信完全是经理口授的。’我要求把铆钉送来。办法总比困难多——对于一个聪明人来讲。他的态度变得非常冷淡,突然间谈起一只河马的故事。他觉得很奇怪,为什么我能安心睡在船上(我一天到晚都守在船上)。有一只可恶的老河马,喜欢晚上爬上岸,在贸易站一带四处乱跑。那些朝圣者常常倾巢而出,把所有来复枪都找出来向它开火,直到弹药耗尽。甚至有人通宵埋伏等待它。可是他们都白费力气。‘那畜生好像受到魔法的保护,’他说,‘但在这里,只有畜生是受魔法保护的。人却没有——您理解我的意思吗?——这里的魔法是不保护人的。’他在月光下站了一阵子,把他那优美的鹰钩鼻稍稍偏过去,他那双云母片似的眼睛一直睁着,泛着光。然后,他匆匆说了声晚安,大步离去。我可以看出他动摇了,也很困惑,这些天我一直很压抑,现在终于看到了希望。甩掉那家伙后,我回到我那有权有势的靠山身旁,那条破破烂烂的、歪歪扭扭的、溃不成形的、一文不值的汽船。我吃力地爬上甲板,脚下哐啷作响,就像一个空的亨帕饼干桶被人沿着下水道一路踢过去时发出的声音。她造得不够结实,外观也不够漂亮,但我在她身上付出了那么多艰辛的劳动,我无法不爱她。没哪个有权有势的朋友比她更派得上用场。她给了我一个机会,让我出去闯一闯——去发现我有什么能耐。不,我不喜欢工作。我情愿游手好闲,做做白日梦。我不喜欢工作——没人喜欢——但我喜欢藏在工作里的玄机——发现自我的机会。发现真实的自我——为自己,不为他人——其他人永远不会知道。他们只能看见肤浅的表面,永远说不清楚个中真谛。

I was not surprised to see somebody sitting aft, on the deck, with his legs dangling over the mud. You see I rather chummed with the few mechanics there were in that station, whom the other pilgrims naturally despised-on account of their imperfect manners, I suppose.This was the foreman-a boiler-maker by trade-a good worker.He was a lank, bony, yellow-faced man, with big intense eyes.His aspect was worried, and his head was as bald as the palm of my hand;but his hair in falling seemed to have stuck to his chin, and had prospered in the new locality, for his beard hung down to his waist.He was a widower with six young children(he had left them in charge of a sister of his to come out there),and the passion of his life was pigeon-fying.He was an enthusiast and a connoisseur.He would rave about pigeons.After work hours he used sometimes to come over from his hut for a talk about his children and his pigeons;at work, when he had to crawl in the mud under the bottom of the steamboat, he would tie up that beard of his in a kind of white serviette he brought for the purpose.It had loops to go over his ears.In the evening he could be seen squatted on the bank rinsing that wrapper in the creek with great care, then spreading it solemnly on a bush to dry.
我看见有人坐在船尾的甲板上,悬着两条腿在烂泥上方。我并不感到惊讶。你们瞧,我和站里仅有的几个技工称兄道弟,而其他朝圣者自然是不把他们放在眼里的——我想是因为他们举止不够得体。这一位是工头——负责制造锅炉的——非常称职。他个子高高的,骨瘦如柴,脸色蜡黄,一双大眼睛炯炯有神。他总是愁眉不展,头顶像我的手心一样秃,但他掉的头发好像粘在了下巴上,在新的地方开枝散叶,因为他的胡子一直垂到腰部。他是个鳏夫,有六个年幼的孩子(为了出来赚钱,他把孩子们留给一个亲妹妹照顾),他最喜欢飞鸽,那给了他生活的热情。他是飞鸽迷,也是行家,快要走火入魔了。下班后,他有时会从他的小屋走过来,和我聊他的孩子和鸽子。工作的时候,他不得不爬进汽船下面,弄得满身烂泥,他便用一块类似餐巾的白布把胡子扎起来。他特意把这块布带在身边,布的两头各有一个小环,可以套在耳朵上。晚上可以看到他蹲在岸边,在小溪里仔仔细细地把它冲洗干净,然后一本正经地摊在灌木丛上晾干。

I slapped him on the back and shouted,‘We shall have rivets!’He scrambled to his feet exclaiming,‘No!Rivets!’as though he couldn‘t believe his ears. Then in a low voice,’You……eh?‘I don’t know why we behaved like lunatics.I put my fnger to the side of my nose and nodded mysteriously.‘Good for you!’he cried, snapped his fingers above his head, lifting one foot.I tried a jig.We capered on the iron deck.A frightful clatter came out of that empty hulk, and the virgin forest on the other bank of the creek sent it back in a thundering roll upon the sleeping station.It must have made some of the pilgrims sit up in their hovels.A dark fgure obscured the lighted doorway of the manager‘s hut, vanished, then, a second or so after, the doorway itself vanished too.We stopped, and the silence driven away by the stamping of our feet fowed back again from the recesses of the land.The great wall of vegetation, an exuberant and entangled mass of trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, festoons, motionless in the moonlight, was like a rioting invasion of soundless life, a rolling wave of plants, piled up, crested, ready to topple over the creek, to sweep every little man of us out of his little existence.And it moved not.A deadened burst of mighty splashes and snorts reached us from afar, as though an ichthyosaurus had been taking a bath of glitter in the great river.’After all,‘said the boiler-maker in a reasonable tone,’why shouldn‘t we get the rivets?’Why not, indeed!I did not know of any reason why we shouldn‘t.’They‘ll come in three weeks,’I said, confdently.
我用力拍一下他的背部,大喊道:‘我们要有铆钉了!’他手忙脚乱地爬起来,喊道:‘不会吧!铆钉!’就像他不能相信自己的耳朵,又低声说,‘您不会……?’我不知道为什么我们俩好像得了精神病一样。我把手指放在鼻子上,神秘地点点头。‘恭喜你!’他大喊起来,在头顶上打响指,跷起一只脚。我拉他一起跳吉格舞。我们在铁做的甲板上欢呼雀跃。船身发出恐怖的哐啷声,河对面的原始森林送来回声,像滚滚天雷一样,碾过沉睡的贸易站。它肯定把住在茅屋里的某些朝圣者吓得坐了起来。经理小屋的走廊亮着灯,一个黑影挡住光,又消失了,又过了一秒钟左右,走廊也消失了。我们停下来,被我们的踏脚声驱散了的宁静,又从大地深处汹涌回来。那堵草木巨墙,由无数树干、树枝、树叶和藤蔓纠缠而成,盘根错节,在月光中寂静不动,仿佛无声的生命发起了一场狂暴的侵略,一个植物的巨浪,翻得有天那么高,海啸般冲压下来,要横扫我们这些渺小的人,击碎我们渺小的存在。但它始终没有动。远方突然爆发出一阵滞闷的拍水声和鼻息声,我们听得清清楚楚,仿佛有一条鱼龙在水面嬉戏,掀起阵阵银光闪闪的浪花。‘说到底,’锅炉匠头脑清楚地说,‘怎么可能会不给我们铆钉呢?’怎么可能,的确!我也想不出为什么会不给我们铆钉。‘三周内运到。’我充满信心地说。

But they didnt. Instead of rivets there came an invasion, an infliction, a visitation.It came in sections during the next three weeks, each section headed by a donkey carrying a white man in new clothes and tan shoes, bowing from that elevation right and left to the impressed pilgrims.A quarrelsome band of footsore sulky niggers trod on the heels of the donkey;a lot of tents, camp-stools, tin boxes, white cases, brown bales would be shot down in the courtyard, and the air of mystery woulddeepen a little over the muddle of the station.Five such instalments came, with their absurd air of disorderly fight with the loot of innumerable outft shops and provision stores, that, one would think, they were lugging, after a raid, into the wilderness for equitable division.It was an inextricable mess of things decent in themselves but that human folly made look like the spoils of thieving.
但并没有运到。取而代之的是一场侵略、人祸和天灾。这一切在接下来的三周里陆续袭来。每一次都是由一个骑着驴的白人带头,他穿着新衣服和黄皮靴,在高高的驴背上左一下右一下地向朝圣者们点头哈腰,让他们深受感动。一帮吵吵嚷嚷的黑人紧跟在驴子后面,他们走得腿酸脚疼,一脸阴沉,他们把一大堆帐篷、野营凳、铁皮箱、白箱子、棕色包裹扔在院子里,把贸易站弄得更加混乱,站上的神秘气氛也加深了一层。这样的商队一共来了五个,他们神色慌张,仿佛刚刚抢完无数服装店和粮食店,逃到这里来喘口气。看见他们那可笑的神情,人们当然会认为他们是要跑到没有人的荒野去安心分赃。因为商品太多而忙中生乱,实属正常,但这群蠢货却弄得这么鬼鬼祟祟,真不像样。

This devoted band called itself the Eldorado Exploring Expedition, and I believe they were sworn to secrecy. Their talk, however, was the talk of sordid buccaneers:it was reckless without hardihood, greedy without audacity, and cruel without courage;there was not an atom of foresight or of serious intention in the whole batch of them, and they did not seem aware these things are wanted for the work of the world.To tear treasure out of the bowels of the land was their desire, with no more moral purpose at the back of it than there is in burglars breaking into a safe.Who paid the expenses of the noble enterprise I dont know;but the uncle of our manager was leader of that lot.
这帮爱岗敬业的人把自己称作埃尔多拉多探险队,我相信他们宣过誓,不能对外泄露机密的。然而,他们一开口就是下流肮脏的海盗腔:莽撞却软弱,贪婪却畏缩,残暴却胆小。他们这一大帮人都缺乏远大的目光和严肃的目标,而他们又似乎并没有意识到,要做出点成绩,这两者都是不可或缺的。他们一心只想着把财物从大地的肠子中掏出来,丝毫没有道德上的目标,跟强盗撬保险箱的行为差不多。我不知道是谁出钱资助了这一系列高尚的行动,但我们经理的叔父正好是这帮人的头目。

In exterior he resembled a butcher in a poor neighbourhood, and his eyes had a look of sleepy cunning. He carried his fat paunch with ostentation on his short legs, and during the time his gang infested the station spoke to no one but his nephew.You could see these two roaming about all day long with their heads close together in an everlasting confab.
他的外表像贫民窟里的屠夫,眼里闪着一种昏昏欲睡的狡猾。他把大肚子架在一双短腿上,好像感到很自豪似的。在他那帮人把贸易站搞得乌七八糟期间,他只跟自己的侄子说话。叔侄两人不避嫌疑地整天四处游荡,两个脑袋紧紧靠在一起,没日没夜地密谈着。

“I had given up worrying myself about the rivets. One‘s capacity for that kind of folly is more limited than you would suppose.I said Hang!—and let things slide.I had plenty of time for meditation, and now and then I would give some thought to Kurtz.I wasn’t very interested in him.No.Still, I was curious to see whether this man, who had come out equipped with moral ideas of some sort, would climb to the top after all, and how he would set about his work when there.”
“我已经把铆钉的事情抛开了。一个人对于那些蠢材的忍耐是有限度的。我说:去死吧!——就撒手不管了。这样一来,我获得了充足的时间来思考,时不时地,我会想到库尔茨。我也不是对他很感兴趣。并没有。但我很想知道,这个人怀揣着那些道德观念来到这里,是不是能最终爬上经理的位子,而他当上了经理之后,又会干出些什么事情来。”


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