小说翻译连载

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-5-29 13:59:20

小说翻译连载
《醒悟》The Awakening
作者　凯特٠肖邦 (Kate Chopin)
译者：沅湘
简介

《醒悟》于１８９９年发表。发表几十年之后都受到美国文化主流谴责，圣路易斯（作者生前的主要生活地点）等地的图书馆甚至把它列为禁书。主要原因是《醒悟》的作者凯特∙肖邦在思想内容方面走在了与她同时代的许多著名男作家的前面。例如，她不但不像福娄拜那样谴责《包伐利夫人》中的嫒玛，还正面歌颂自己的主人公埃得娜，讽刺背叛她本该和她坚持到底的罗伯特。另外，她坚决谴责把妻子当作财产的个人、家庭、和社会制度，并把妻子不忠实这样的丈夫描写成一件正当的事情，在这方面她走在了劳伦斯的前面。
就创作艺术而言，本书从一开始就被人（包括那些不喜欢这本书的名流）认为是上上乘。例如本书发表后不久，很不喜欢这本书的内容的文学评论家C.L. Deyo就说这本书的确是令人伤心、的确是疯狂、的确是坏，但的确全是顶峰的艺术。二十世纪五十年代， Brooks说过许多多产作家一辈子写的东西还不如这本完美的小书(one small perfect book that mattered more than the whole life-work of many a prolific writer)。此书从上世纪五十年代开始受到重视，如今是经典美国文学作品，是几乎所有美国高校英文系的必读书之一。
故事的主人公是位年轻很有才华的妈妈（这里好像也有很有才华的妈妈；作者写这本书时是位刚失去了丈夫有两个孩子的妈妈），作者为塑造这个人物所用的艺术手段到如今仍有许多地方值得学习。这是我翻译这篇小说的主要目的。
比如说，我认为作者写这书时借鉴了绘画和歌剧中的许多艺术手段，以后有机会我会适当解释。眼下只提请大家注意，第一章里的笼中鸟，戒指，黑衣女人，歌剧，大海等等，都有隐含意义，渲染一种明褒实贬嘲讽挖苦庞德烈先生的气氛，像幅印象主义的画作。

1

一只黄绿相间的鹦鹉，挂在门外的笼子里，在不停地叫：
“天哪！你走吧！走吧！终于走了” ！
它能说一两句西班牙语；也能说种语言，除了挂在对面笼子里那只山雀外谁都听不懂，此刻这山雀正迎着微风，像支笛子，在不停地发疯了似地叫。
庞德烈先生，报纸再也看不下去了，带着厌恶的表情站了起来并嘟哝了一声。他沿着走廊走下去，跨过连接仑布朗度假村里那些度假屋之间的窄“桥” 。在此之前他坐在度假村主建筑门口。鹦鹉和山雀是仑布朗太太的财产，它们想怎么吵就可以怎么吵。吵得不好听时庞德烈先生有权离开。
他走到自家度假屋门口，也就是主建筑旁边第四间即倒数第二间屋，在张正好放在那里的藤编摇椅里坐下来，继续完成看报的任务。这是个星期天，报纸隔了一天。星期天的报纸还没送到大观岛来。他昨天离开新奥尔良时已经看了市场新闻，所以在翻阅还没来得及看的社论和小块新闻。
庞德烈先生戴眼镜、四十岁、中等身材有点瘦、背有点驼、笔直的褐发梳成分头、胡须修剪整齐。
他的目光偶尔离开报纸朝四周望。主房那边愈发吵闹了。主建筑名曰“房子” ，以便和其它小屋区别。鸟儿仍在吵着叫着。法瑞尔家的双胞胎姊妹正用钢琴演奏歌剧《赞巴》里的一首二重奏。仑布朗夫人精神饱满地进进出出，进去就对屋外修剪草坪的男孩子尖声发号，出来又用同样尖的声调对屋里整理餐厅的佣人施令。她是个清新又漂亮的女人，老穿着袖子齐胳膊肘的白衣。随着她进进出出浆洗过的裙子变得皱巴了。更远处，一座度假屋的前面，一位黑衣女士一边数着捻珠一边若有所思地来回走动。村里的许多人都乘包德勒家的船到榭尼尔٠卡米那达岛上听祢撒去了。有些年轻人在外面水橡树下打门球。庞德烈先生的两个分别为四岁和五岁的身体结实的小家伙也在那里。一位有四分之一黑人血统的保姆跟着他们，心不在焉地想着什么心事。
庞德烈先生终于点燃一枝雪茄抽起来，一只手刚好抓住报纸。他凝视着一顶白阳伞涡牛样从海滩边缓缓地爬过来。白阳伞在细长的水橡树树干间和满地的黄菊花上面清晰可见。海湾看起来延伸到很远处，与蓝色海平线交融成一遍朦胧。阳伞在慢慢移过来。在阳伞的粉红色里子下面，他的妻子、庞德烈太太和年轻的罗伯特•仑布朗在遮太阳晒。他俩来到度假屋后分别在屋门口台阶的最上面一级，面对面背靠柱子坐下来，看起来显得疲倦。
“真傻！这时候这么热还去洗澡” ！庞德烈先生说。他自己大白天已经去游了一趟。这就是他觉得这天上午日子长的原因。
“你都晒得认不出来了” ，他补充道，同时看着妻子就像看着自己的一件贵重财产被损坏了一般。她伸出双手，有力、好看的双手，高级细纱布料做的袖口退到手腕后面，挑剔地看。看着就想起了下海前交给丈夫的戒指。于是一声不响地把手伸到他面前；而他，知道为什么，从背心的口袋里掏出戒指，撒到她张开着的手板心里。她戴上戒指，并拢膝盖，掉头朝罗伯特看，看着就笑起来，戒指在手指上闪光。罗伯特报以一笑。
“怎么回事” ？庞德烈问，好奇又漫不经心地依次瞧了两人一眼。根本就没什么、也就是在那边水中的一次小小的冒险，他俩同时抢着说。不过说出来后似乎半点也不好笑。他们明白了这点，庞德烈先生也明白过来。他打个哈欠伸了伸懒腰，然后起身说他有些想到那边格仑斯旅馆去打台球。
“来吧仑布朗，一起去” ，他邀罗伯特。但罗伯特坦率地说他宁愿呆在那里跟庞德烈太太说话。
“埃得娜，等到他让你烦时就让他去做他的正经事” ，丈夫快要动身时给她作指示。
“喂，带上伞” ，她说着就把伞交给他。他接过那把阳伞、举在头顶走下台阶。
“回来吃晚饭吗” ？妻子朝他身后喊。他停下来耸耸肩，在背心的口袋里摸了摸，摸到张十块钱的票子。也许他会回来吃早晚餐也许不会；他不能肯定。完全取决于在格伦斯那边遇到些什么人和“玩乐”的规模。他虽没有说出来，但她心里明白，于是笑了笑，朝他点头表示再见。
两个孩子看见父亲出门都要跟着去。他吻了吻他们并保证给他们带棒棒糖和花生回来。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-5-29 14:06:10

THE AWAKENING
I
      A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over:
      \"Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That\'s all right!\"
      He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody understood, unless it was the mocking-bird that hung on the other side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with maddening persistence.
      Mr. Pontellier, unable to read his newspaper with any degree of comfort, arose with an expression and an exclamation of disgust. He walked down the gallery and across the narrow \"bridges\" which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other. He had been seated before the door of the main house. The parrot and the mocking-bird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished. Mr. Pontellier had the privilege of quitting their society when they ceased to be entertaining.
      He stopped before the door of his own cottage, which was the fourth one from the main building and next to the last. Seating himself in a wicker rocker which was there, he once more applied himself to the task of reading the newspaper. The day was Sunday; the paper was a day old. The Sunday papers had not yet reached Grand Isle. He was already acquainted with the market reports, and he glanced restlessly over the editorials and bits of news which he had not had time to read before quitting New Orleans the day before.
      Mr. Pontellier wore eye-glasses. He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build; he stooped a little. His hair was brown and straight, parted on one side. His beard was neatly and closely trimmed.
      Once in a while he withdrew his glance from the newspaper and looked about him. There was more noise than ever over at the house. The main building was called \"the house,\" to distinguish it from the cottages. The chattering and whistling birds were still at it. Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from \"Zampa\" upon the piano. Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally high voice to a dining-room servant whenever she got outside. She was a fresh, pretty woman, clad always in white with elbow sleeves. Her starched skirts crinkled as she came and went. Farther down, before one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down, telling her beads. A good many persons of the pension had gone over to the Chênière Caminada in Beaudelet\'s lugger to hear mass. Some young people were out under the water-oaks playing croquet. Mr. Pontellier\'s two children were there - sturdy little fellows of four and five. A quadroon nurse followed them about with a far-away, meditative air.
      Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper drag idly from his hand. He fixed his gaze upon a white sunshade that was advancing at snail\'s pace from the beach. He could see it plainly between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of yellow camomile. The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon. The sunshade continued to approach slowly. Beneath its pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. Pontellier, and young Robert Lebrun. When they reached the cottage, the two seated themselves with some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each other, each leaning against a supporting post.
      \"What folly! to bathe at such an hour in such heat!\" exclaimed Mr. Pontellier. He himself had taken a plunge at daylight. That was why the morning seemed long to him.
      \"You are burnt beyond recognition,\" he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage. She held up her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her lawn sleeves above the wrists. Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach. She silently reached out to him, and he, understanding, took the rings from his vest pocket and dropped them into her open palm. She slipped them upon her fingers; then clasping her knees, she looked across at Robert and began to laugh. The rings sparkled upon her fingers. He sent back an answering smile.
      \"What is it?\" asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to the other. It was some utter nonsense; some adventure out there in the water, and they both tried to relate it at once. It did not seem half so amusing when told. They realized this, and so did Mr. Pontellier. He yawned and stretched himself. Then he got up, saying he had half a mind to go over to Klein\'s hotel and play a game of billiards.
   \"Come go along, Lebrun,\" he proposed to Robert. But Robert admitted quite frankly that he preferred to stay where he was and talk to Mrs. Pontellier.
   \"Well, send him about his business when he bores you, Edna,\" instructed her husband as he prepared to leave.
      \"Here, take the umbrella,\" she exclaimed, holding it out to him. He accepted the sunshade, and lifting it over his head descended the steps and walked away.
      \"Coming back to dinner?\" his wife called after him. He halted a moment and shrugged his shoulders. He felt in his vest pocket; there was a ten-dollar bill there. He did not know; perhaps he would return for the early dinner and perhaps he would not. It all depended upon the company which he found over at Klein\'s and the size of \"the game.\" He did not say this, but she understood it, and laughed, nodding good-by to him.
      Both children wanted to follow their father when they saw him starting out. He kissed them and promised to bring them back bonbons and peanuts.

无墨 · 发表于 2006-5-30 01:37:11

好強阿!這要加多少分呀!
我宣布,我在北美的第一堂英文閱讀課開始了!

:mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad:

新竹 · 发表于 2006-5-30 10:30:08

我是第一个学生。PFPF!

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-5-30 12:57:58

２

庞德烈太太的眼睛机灵又明亮，颜色褐中稍带浅黄，和头发差不多，看到某个东西时有时会突然盯住不动好像是想什么心事或者问题想得着了迷。
她的眉毛的色着比头发深一点。两道浓眉几乎平整如线，凸显她深沉的双眼。她不算漂亮但还好看。令人着迷的是她那张表情有些坦率并悄然露出些相互矛盾着的特征的脸。她的风度引人注目。
罗伯特卷了个纸烟。他说他抽不起雪茄所以抽纸烟。他口袋里有庞德烈先生送给他的一只雪茄，得留到饭后抽。
他似乎觉得这是很正常很自然的。他的肤色和他的同伴没啥不同。刮得干干净净的脸更加突出了这一点要是没刮则还看不出来。他的面部表情开朗没有丝毫忧虑的影子，眼睛里汇聚并散发着夏日里的懒慵慵光芒。
庞德烈太太伸手拿来放在门口的一把圃扇给自己扇风，罗伯特则叼着纸烟从两片嘴唇间吐出团团轻烟。他们在不停地聊天：谈着周围的事，谈着他俩在水里的愉快的冒险－－此刻它又让人觉得愉快，谈着风，谈着树，谈着已去懈尼尔听弥撒的那些人和在水橡树下玩门球的孩子们，也谈着法瑞尔家的正在演奏歌剧《诗人与农夫》（译注：作者用歌剧里的情节暗示小说里的情节，向读者暗示埃得娜是诗人罗伯特是农夫）的序曲的双胞胎。
罗伯特谈了许多自己的事。他很年轻，还不老成。庞德烈太太出于同样理由谈了少许自己的事。彼此对对方说的事都感兴趣。罗伯特说到他打算秋天去墨西哥，那里有好运气等着他（译注：为罗伯特离开庞德烈太太埋下了伏笔）。他一直想去墨西哥，但总是因故没去成。没去成就在新奥尔良一家仓库里弄了个还算体面的位置，他的英语，法语和西班牙语都熟练，这使得他既当文书又兼通讯的工作的价值非同小可。
眼下，和以往一样，他正和妈妈在大观岛上消夏。从前，罗伯特还不记事之前，　“主房” 是仑布朗家夏天的奢侈享受。如今房子两边总共排列起了一打多度假小屋，里面总是住满了从新奥尔良“法国城” 专门而来的游客，这使得仑布朗太太过上了舒服轻松的日子，使她似乎生来就是如此。
庞德烈太太谈到她父亲在密西西比的庄园和坐落在肯塔基古老的蓝天碧草里的她做闺女时的家。她是个美国女人，血管里曾注入过的少量法兰西血液似乎已被稀释干净了。她朗读了一封她妹妹的信，她远在东方、已经定婚快要嫁人了。罗伯特来了兴致，想知道姐妹们是怎么做闺女的，父亲为人如何，母亲去世有多久了。
庞德烈太太把信叠好时已到该换衣做早晚饭的时间。
“看来雷昂思是不回来了” ，她望了望丈夫走掉的方向说。罗伯特猜他不会来了，因为那边格伦斯旅馆里有许多混俱乐部的新奥尔良的男人。
庞德烈太太离开他进屋后，年轻人就走下台阶散漫地朝玩球门的人走过去。在那里，在开晚饭前的半个小时之内，他和小庞德烈们玩，孩子们很喜欢他。
II
      Mrs. Pontellier\'s eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish brown, about the color of her hair. She had a way of turning them swiftly upon an object and holding them there as if lost in some inward maze of contemplation or thought.
      Her eyebrows were a shade darker than her hair. They were thick and almost horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes. She was rather handsome than beautiful. Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features. Her manner was engaging.
      Robert rolled a cigarette. He smoked cigarettes because he could not afford cigars, he said. He had a cigar in his pocket which Mr. Pontellier had presented him with, and he was saving it for his after-dinner smoke.
      This seemed quite proper and natural on his part. In coloring he was not unlike his companion. A clean-shaved face made the resemblance more pronounced than it would otherwise have been. There rested no shadow of care upon his open countenance. His eyes gathered in and reflected the light and languor of the summer day.
      Mrs. Pontellier reached over for a palm-leaf fan that lay on the porch and began to fan herself, while Robert sent between his lips light puffs from his cigarette. They chatted incessantly: about the things around them; their amusing adventure out in the water - it had again assumed its entertaining aspect; about the wind, the trees, the people who had gone to the Chênière; about the children playing croquet under the oaks, and the Farival twins, who were now performing the overture to \"The Poet and the Peasant.\"
      Robert talked a good deal about himself. He was very young, and did not know any better. Mrs. Pontellier talked a little about herself for the same reason. Each was interested in what the other said. Robert spoke of his intention to go to Mexico in the autumn, where fortune awaited him. He was always intending to go to Mexico, but some way never got there. Meanwhile he held on to his modest position in a mercantile house in New Orleans, where an equal familiarity with English, French and Spanish gave him no small value as a clerk and correspondent.
      He was spending his summer vacation, as he always did, with his mother at Grand Isle. In former times, before Robert could remember, \"the house\" had been a summer luxury of the Lebruns. Now, flanked by its dozen or more cottages, which were always filled with exclusive visitors from the \"Quartier Français,\" it enabled Madame Lebrun to maintain the easy and comfortable existence which appeared to be her birthright.
      Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father\'s Mississippi plantation and her girlhood home in the old Kentucky blue-grass country. She was an American woman, with a small infusion of French which seemed to have been lost in dilution. She read a letter from her sister, who was away in the East, and who had engaged herself to be married. Robert was interested, and wanted to know what manner of girls the sisters were, what the father was like, and how long the mother had been dead.
      When Mrs. Pontellier folded the letter it was time for her to dress for the early dinner.
      \"I see Léonce isn\'t coming back,\" she said, with a glance in the direction whence her husband had disappeared. Robert supposed he was not, as there were a good many New Orleans club men over at Klein\'s.
      When Mrs. Pontellier left him to enter her room, the young man descended the steps and strolled over toward the croquet players, where, during the half-hour before dinner, he amused himself with the little Pontellier children, who were very fond of him.

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-5-30 13:01:13

Originally posted by 无墨 at 2006-5-29 01:37 PM:" i" l2 q# c8 W4 O. ^6 Z% O+ N
好強阿!這要加多少分呀!
% d3 h7 R. l2 f- y* d- f& i' h z0 a我宣布,我在北美的第一堂英文閱讀課開始了!
+ O- k5 n) G" l% x: F" h0 c( ?) Y' C# L# z8 i

! e$ p1 L! C: a% B:mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad:! C$ p0 p( K3 `3 B& l
" ]& r9 |: T. R

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-5-30 13:04:08

Originally posted by 新竹 at 2006-5-29 10:30 PM:
. {9 S9 g. i* K& ]我是第一个学生。PFPF!

新竹肯定能看出名堂来。谢谢你把这么个文雅幽静的好地方介绍给我。等着看你的大作。

庶士 · 发表于 2006-5-30 14:01:10

:mad:

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-1 12:37:46

Originally posted by 庶士 at 2006-5-30 02:01 AM:
6 y) d8 E' g! l8 d:mad:

基本上已经翻译完，但要修改润色。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-1 12:40:17

３

那天晚上庞德烈先生从哥伦斯旅馆回来已经是夜里十一点。他情绪好、兴致高、话也多，进来时妻子在床上睡得正香，进入就把她弄醒了。他一边脱衣一边跟她说话，跟她讲他当天收集到的趣闻琐事和闲言碎语，并从裤子口袋里掏出一把皱巴巴的钞票和些银币，胡乱和从所有口袋里掏出来的钥匙、小刀、手巾等所有其它东西堆放在在衣柜上。她睡意正浓，口齿半清不清地低声回应。
他觉得妻子，他之生存的唯一对象，竟对他关心的事如此不感兴趣、竟如此不重视与他交谈，这太扫兴了。
庞德烈先生早忘了给男孩子们带棒棒糖和花生米。不过他还是很爱他们的，他走进隔壁孩子们睡的房间去看了看，看他们是否睡得舒服。他对看的结果很不满意，给小家伙们翻身让他们在床上动来动去的。其中的一位开始踢着脚并说到一个篮子里面装满螃蟹。
庞德烈先生回到妻子身边告诉她拉奥尔在发高烧需要照顾。然后点燃一枝雪茄走到敞开着的门边坐下来抽。
庞德烈太太完全有把握拉奥尔没发烧。他上床时好生生的，一整天都没事，她说道。庞德烈先生太熟悉发烧的症状了是不会弄错的。他向她打包票说此刻那孩子就在隔壁发高烧。
他责备妻子不专心，一惯不管孩子。如果照顾孩子不是母亲的责任那么是世上谁的责任？他自己在证券交易所忙得不可开交。他不可能一身分成两处，既在社会上养家又在家保证家里不出差错。他单调地说个没完。
庞德烈太太从床上猛地跳下来走进隔壁房间。一会儿后她又回来坐在床沿上、头往下埋进枕头，啥也不说，丈夫问也不答。雪茄抽完后他就上床，半分钟就睡着了。
庞德烈太太这时已经全醒了。她开始啜泣，用高级睡袍的袖子擦眼睛。她吹灭了丈夫没吹灭的蜡烛，赤脚轻轻穿上床头下面的一双亚麻布拖鞋走到门外走廊上，坐在藤椅里轻轻地来回摇动。
半夜已过。所有的度假屋全都黑暗。主房子的走廊里有只昏黄的灯火闪亮。四周没啥声响，只有一只老猫头鹰在水橡树上的叫声、和大海永不停息的在这温柔时分无精打采的话语，像是在给黑夜吟唱一首悲伤的催眠曲。
眼泪从庞德烈太太眼里猛地流出来，很快就弄湿了睡袍的袖口，再也不能用来擦干眼睛。她一只手抓住椅子背，松软的袖子从举起的手臂上滑落下来快要落到肩上。她转身，把湿漉又热气腾腾的脸埋进肘弯，大哭起来，再也不擦手臂、不擦双眼、不擦脸。她说不上来为什么会哭。刚才提到的这种事在她结婚之后并不少见。和她丈夫不言自明的慷慨善良与专心奉献相比这类事情在这之前似乎算不得什么。
然而某种似乎是从不熟悉的意识里产生的难以描绘的压抑，带着隐约的悲伤占据了她的全部身心。象阴影、象雾水笼罩她的灵魂里的夏日。是种情绪，陌生又奇怪。她坐在那里内心并没责怪丈夫，也没埋怨指引她一路走来走到如今的命运。她只是在尽情痛哭。蚊子在她头顶撒欢，咬她的结实、浑圆的手臂，叮她的脚背。
这些又咬又嗡嗡不断的小淘气们成功地驱散了那很有可能在黑暗中还得缠住她达半个夜晚之久的情绪。
第二天早晨庞德烈先生起床后正好赶上载他去码头乘轮船的四轮马车。他要回城去做生意，要到下个星期六才能再回到岛上来。他的脸色已恢复正常，先天夜里可是有些难看。他急着要走，急切地盼望着在卡隆得街（相当于新奥尔良的华尔街）度过生机活泼的一周。
庞德烈先生把昨晚从旅馆带回来的一半钱交给了妻子。她接过来时心情可不是一般的愉快，和大多数女人一样她也喜欢钱。
她一张一张地数着票子，用手把它们抚平，同时激动地说：“够给杰妮特妹妹买份体面的结婚礼物了” ！
“啊！亲爱的，我们对杰妮特要更好些” ，他边笑边过来吻她表示再见。
男孩子们踉跄着跑过来，抱住他的腿，求他给他们带好多东西回来。庞德烈先生极其招人喜欢，动身总是有女士、男人、小孩子、甚至佣人们对他说再见。妻子站着笑着朝他挥手，男孩子们喊着叫着，直到他走进远处沙路上的四轮马车里面。
几天后从新奥尔良邮来一个箱子。是她丈夫寄来的。里面装满了高级食品、好看又好吃并带有性爱暗示的杂七杂八－－上等水果、夹心饼干，一两瓶珍贵饮料、可口的糖浆、还有大量夹心棒棒糖。
庞德烈太太对这些包裹里的东西一向大方，她不在家里住时常常收到此类包裹。她把水果和夹心饼干送去餐厅，把棒棒糖发给别人。女士们用小巧善于挑选的双手稍微有些贪婪地挑捡着，都说庞德烈是世上最好的丈夫。庞德烈太太不得不承认她不知道还有哪个丈夫更好。

译注：
到结束时，这篇小说的关键问题是为什么庞德烈太太宁肯投水而亡也不愿意回到那么好那么能干那么有礼貌的丈夫的身边。读者在这一章里应该可以找到部分答案：作者描写庞德烈时采用了undercut的手法，即在阳光能及之处竭力突出人物的正面形象的同时在暗处渲染他的品质中的阳光所不及之处。作者这样描绘人物时的笔触简洁有力，读者可以看出许多此类细节。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-1 12:40:44

III
      It was eleven o\'clock that night when Mr. Pontellier returned from Klein\'s hotel. He was in an excellent humor, in high spirits, and very talkative. His entrance awoke his wife, who was in bed and fast asleep when he came in. He talked to her while he undressed, telling her anecdotes and bits of news and gossip that he had gathered during the day. From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief, and whatever else happened to be in his pockets. She was overcome with sleep, and answered him with little half utterances.
      He thought it very discouraging that his wife, who was the sole object of his existence, evinced so little interest in things which concerned him, and valued so little his conversation.
      Mr. Pontellier had forgotten the bonbons and peanuts for the boys. Notwithstanding he loved them very much, and went into the adjoining room where they slept to take a look at them and make sure that they were resting comfortably. The result of his investigation was far from satisfactory. He turned and shifted the youngsters about in bed. One of them began to kick and talk about a basket full of crabs.
      Mr. Pontellier returned to his wife with the information that Raoul had a high fever and needed looking after. Then he lit a cigar and went and sat near the open door to smoke it.
      Mrs. Pontellier was quite sure Raoul had no fever. He had gone to bed perfectly well, she said, and nothing had ailed him all day. Mr. Pontellier was too well acquainted with fever symptoms to be mistaken. He assured her the child was consuming at that moment in the next room.
      He reproached wife with her inattention, her habitual neglect of the children. If it was not a mother\'s place to look after children, whose on earth was it? He himself had his hands full with his brokerage business. He could not be in two places at once; making a living for his family on the street, and staying at home to see that no harm befell them. He talked in a monotonous, insistent way.
      Mrs. Pontellier sprang out of bed and went into the next room. She soon came back and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning her head down on the pillow. She said nothing, and refused to answer her husband when he questioned her. When his cigar was smoked out he went to bed, and in half a minute he was fast asleep.
      Mrs. Pontellier was by that time thoroughly awake. She began to cry a little, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her peignoir. Blowing out the candle, which her husband had left burning, she slipped her bare feet into a pair of satin mules at the foot of the bed and went out on the porch, where she sat down in the wicker chair and began to rock gently to and fro.
      It was then past midnight. The cottages were all dark. A single faint light gleamed out from the hallway of the house. There was no sound abroad except the hooting of an old owl in the top of a water-oak, and the everlasting voice of the sea, that was not uplifted at that soft hour. It broke like a mournful lullaby upon the night.
      The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier\'s eyes that the damp sleeve of her peignoir no longer served to dry them. She was holding the back of her chair with one hand; her loose sleeve had slipped almost to the shoulder of her uplifted arm. Turning, she thrust her face, steaming and wet, into the bend of her arm, and she went on crying there, not caring any longer to dry her face, her eyes, her arms. She could not have told why she was crying. Such experiences as the foregoing were not uncommon in her married life. They seemed never before to have weighed much against the abundance of her husband\'s kindness and a uniform devotion which had come to be tacit and self-understood.
      An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul\'s summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.
      The little stinging, buzzing imps succeeded in dispelling a mood which might have held her there in the darkness half a night longer.
      The following morning Mr. Pontellier was up in good time to take the rockaway which was to convey him to the steamer at the wharf. He was returning to the city to his business, and they would not see him again at the Island till the coming Saturday. He had regained his composure, which seemed to have been somewhat impaired the night before. He was eager to be gone, as he looked forward to a lively week in Carondelet Street.
      Mr. Pontellier gave his wife half of the money which he had brought away from Klein\'s hotel the evening before. She liked money as well as most women, and accepted it with no little satisfaction.
      \"It will buy a handsome wedding present for Sister Janet!\" she exclaimed, smoothing out the bills as she counted them one by one.
      \"Oh! we\'ll treat Sister Janet better than that, my dear,\" he laughed, as he prepared to kiss her good-by.
      The boys were tumbling about, clinging to his legs, imploring that numerous things be brought back to them. Mr. Pontellier was a great favorite, and ladies, men, children, even nurses, were always on hand to say good-by to him. His wife stood smiling and waving, the boys shouting, as he disappeared in the old rockaway down the sandy road.
      A few days later a box arrived for Mrs. Pontellier from New Orleans. It was from her husband. It was filled with friandises, with luscious and toothsome bits - the finest of fruits, patés, a rare bottle or two, delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.
      Mrs. Pontellier was always very generous with the contents of such a box; she was quite used to receiving them when away from home. The patés and fruit were brought to the dining-room; the bonbons were passed around. And the ladies, selecting with dainty and discriminating fingers and a little greedily, all declared that Mr. Pontellier was the best husband in the world. Mrs. Pontellier was forced to admit that she knew of none better.

林子丹 · 发表于 2006-6-2 05:29:21

很流畅的文笔。回家后细读。

正打算重读一些原来读过中译本的书，就遇到翻译家出场，改日要好好请教。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-3 14:09:36

Originally posted by 林子丹 at 2006-6-1 05:29 PM: s9 I) ]$ R7 U3 F+ H) R- z8 X7 h
很流畅的文笔。回家后细读。
1 z1 O# |( Q V; \: s
2 B3 V) X7 A: {* w( r4 E# m! @正打算重读一些原来读过中译本的书，就遇到翻译家出场，改日要好好请教。

看见你今天下午指挥两个大碗。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-3 14:10:44

４

要让庞德烈先生对自己或他人满意地解释妻子到底在哪些地方对孩子没尽到责任，这可能很难。这多多少少是他的感觉而非认识，而且每次说出这感觉后他就后悔就赔许多的罪。
庞德烈家的小孩子玩耍时要是跌倒在地，是不会哭着朝妈妈的怀里跑去寻求安慰的，而是很有可能爬起来、擦擦嘴里的沙子和眼里的泪水继续玩。尽管也是小宝宝，但他们与小孩子们打仗时能团结起来使劲挥动拳头并高声叫喊着坚守自己的阵地，往往打败其他要妈妈的宝宝们。那位有四分之一黑人血统的保姆在他们眼里不过是个巨大的累赘，只会系上衣和裤子的扣子，把头发梳成分头式，因为分头似乎是社会的法律。
总而言之，庞德烈太太不是个专做妈妈的女人。那年夏天大观岛上似乎到处都是专做妈妈的女人。很容易认出她们；任何真正或者想象的危险危及她们的一窝宝贝时，她们总是张开护卫的翅膀翩然而动。她们是些宠爱孩子、崇拜丈夫的女人，诚惶诚恐地认为抹杀作为个人的自我，蓄起天使的翅膀传播天恩是种神圣的权利。
其中有许多人担任这角色担任得津津有味；有一位可说是女人的全部风度和魅力的化身。如果她丈夫不把她当宝贝，那他是个未开化的野蛮人，得慢慢折磨到死。她名叫阿得尔•哈迪挪尔。除常用来描绘浪漫爱情故事里的过气了的美女和我们梦中的美人的陈词滥调之外再没其它词汇可以描写她。她的魅力毫无微妙可言也没掩饰；她的美一览无遗，如火焰鲜明：金亮的头发用发夹和梳子夹都夹不住；蓝眼睛什么也不像只像蓝宝石；两片嘴唇噘得紧紧的，红得让人看起来只觉得是颗樱桃或鲜红又味美的水果。她的身子稍微有点发胖，但这似乎丝毫不损她走路、摆姿势、作手势的风韵。白脖子少一丝则不浑圆，美丽的胳膊多一点则不细嫩。世上哪里有她那么双纤巧精致的手；看着她的手，看着她穿针，看着她忙个不停为小孩缝睡衣、肚兜、或者围涎时调整套在纤细的中指上的金色顶针，那真是快乐。
哈迪挪尔太太非常喜欢庞德烈太太，常常在下午带着针线活过来和她坐一起。那个包裹从新奥尔良邮来的那天下午她就坐在那里。她占着那把摇椅，忙着缝件很小的睡衣。
她把式样拿来要庞德烈太太裁剪－－多么奇妙的设计，式样实用到了可以把个小孩子像爱斯基摩人全身包住，只留下两只小眼睛。这是冬衣的式样，冬天里狡猾的穿堂风会从烟囱里钻进来做恶，恶毒致命的感冒气流会从钥匙孔里溜进来害命。
庞德烈对孩子们眼下需要什么东西都不动脑筋，更不知未雨绸缪把冬天穿的睡衣当作夏天思考的题目的用处。但是她不想露出不友好不关心的样子，所以她拿来了些报纸铺到前廊的地板上，在哈迪挪尔的指导下裁出了那件密不透风的衣服的式样。
罗伯特在场，坐在上个星期天坐的老地方，庞德烈太太也是坐在顶上那级台阶的老地方，没精打采地靠着柱子。她身边有盒棒棒糖，隔会儿就端起来给哈蒂娜尔太太。
该太太不知道该挑什么，但是最后挑了根纳给特牌的夹心棒棒糖，还担心是否太浓，会不会伤身。（注：一种长条形的夹心巧克力，夹心里面有酒、椰子汁和糖浆等液体）哈迪挪尔太太结婚七年了；大约每两年生个孩子；已有三个，正想第四个。她老是说到她的“状况” 。 “状况” 根本就不明显，要是她自己说话时不老是提起旁人根本就不会知情。
罗伯特叫她放心，并声称他知道有位太太靠吃纳给特糖为生吃了整整一……看见庞德烈太太脸红了就住口不说换了个话题。
庞德烈太太虽然嫁了个克里奥人，但她还没完全进入克里奥人的社会；她从没像现在这样和克里奥人如此亲密地混在一起。那年夏天仑布朗度假村里只有克里奥人。他们相互认识，感情上像个大家庭，彼此有很亲密的联系。他们有个与众不同并让庞德烈太太印象最为深刻的特点，那就是说话毫不顾及体面。开始时他们的表达之随便对她来说简直是难以置信，不过她还是毫无困难地把这一点和克里奥女人似乎是生而有之的永无差错的崇高贞洁综合起来考虑。
埃得娜٠庞德烈永远也忘不了她吃惊地听哈迪挪尔太太对老法瑞尔先生讲她生孩子受罪的情形，毫不掩饰丝毫隐私。当时她已开始适应与之类似的令人吃惊的事情；但还是止不住地泛红脸。不止一次她一来罗伯特就住嘴不再讲让群已婚妇女听得满有味道的妙趣横生的故事。
度假村里在轮流传阅一本书。轮到她看时，她深受震惊。觉得有必要单独悄悄看－－听到脚步声就该藏起来别让人看见，可是没任何其他人这么做。是本在饭桌上公开批评自由讨论的书。庞德烈太太作出了让人惊奇的事总是没完没了的结论，所以不再感受震惊。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-3 14:13:53

IV
      It would have been a difficult matter for Mr. Pontellier to define to his own satisfaction or any one else\'s wherein his wife failed in her duty toward their children. It was something which he felt rather than perceived, and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and ample atonement.
      If one of the little Pontellier boys took a tumble whilst at play, he was not apt to rush crying to his mother\'s arms for comfort; he would more likely pick himself up, wipe the water out of his eyes and the sand out of his mouth, and go on playing. Tots as they were, they pulled together and stood their ground in childish battles with doubled fists and uplifted voices, which usually prevailed against the other mother-tots. The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance, only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and part hair; since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed.
      In short, Mrs. Pontellier was not a mother-woman. The mother-women seemed to prevail that summer at Grand Isle. It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protecting wings when any harm, real or imaginary, threatened their precious brood. They were women who idolized their children, worshiped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as ministering angels.
      Many of them were delicious in the rôle; one of them was the embodiment of every womanly grace and charm. If her husband did not adore her, he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture. Her name was Adèle Ratignolle. There are no words to describe her save the old ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance and the fair lady of our dreams. There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the spun-gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain; the blue eyes that were like nothing but sapphires; two lips that pouted, that were so red one could only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them. She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture. One would not have wanted her white neck a mite less full or her beautiful arms more slender. Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a joy to look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold thimble to her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little night-drawers or fashioned a bodice or a bib.
      Madame Ratignolle was very fond of Mrs. Pontellier, and often she took her sewing and went over to sit with her in the afternoons. She was sitting there the afternoon of the day the box arrived from New Orleans. She had possession of the rocker, and she was busily engaged in sewing upon a diminutive pair of night-drawers.
      She had brought the pattern of the drawers for Mrs. Pontellier to cut out - a marvel of construction, fashioned to enclose a baby\'s body so effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment, like an Eskimo\'s. They were designed for winter wear, when treacherous drafts came down chimneys and insidious currents of deadly cold found their way through key-holes.
      Mrs. Pontellier\'s mind was quite at rest concerning the present material needs of her children, and she could not see the use of anticipating and making winter night garments the subject of her summer meditations. But she did not want to appear unamiable and uninterested, so she had brought forth newspapers, which she spread upon the floor of the gallery, and under Madame Ratignolle\'s directions she had cut a pattern of the impervious garment.
      Robert was there, seated as he had been the Sunday before, and Mrs. Pontellier also occupied her former position on the upper step, leaning listlessly against the post. Beside her was a box of bonbons, which she held out at intervals to Madame Ratignolle.
      That lady seemed at a loss to make a selection, but finally settled upon a stick of nugat, wondering if it were not too rich; whether it could possibly hurt her. Madame Ratignolle had been married seven years. About every two years she had a baby. At that time she had three babies, and was beginning to think of a fourth one. She was always talking about her \"condition.\" Her \"condition\" was in no way apparent, and no one would have known a thing about it but for her persistence in making it the subject of conversation.
      Robert started to reassure her, asserting that he had known a lady who had subsisted upon nugat during the entire - but seeing the color mount into Mrs. Pontellier\'s face he checked himself and changed the subject.
      Mrs. Pontellier, though she had married a Creole, was not thoroughly at home in the society of Creoles; never before had she been thrown so intimately among them. There were only Creoles that summer at Lebrun\'s. They all knew each other, and felt like one large family, among whom  existed the most amicable relations. A characteristic which distinguished them and which impressed Mrs. Pontellier most forcibly was their entire absence of prudery. Their freedom of expression was at first incomprehensible to her, though she had no difficulty in reconciling it with a lofty chastity which in the Creole woman seems to be inborn and unmistakable.
      Never would Edna Pontellier forget the shock with which she heard Madame Ratignolle relating to old Monsieur Farival the harrowing story of one of her accouchements, withholding no intimate detail. She was growing accustomed to like shocks, but she could not keep the mounting color back from her cheeks. Oftener than once her coming had interrupted the droll story with which Robert was entertaining some amused group of married women.
      A book had gone the rounds of the pension. When it came her turn to read it, she did so with profound astonishment. She felt moved to read the book in secret and solitude, though none of the others had done so - to hide it from view at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was openly criticised and freely discussed at table. Mrs. Pontellier gave over being astonished, and concluded that wonders would never cease.

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-5 11:30:33

５ (1)

那个夏日的下午他们三人坐在那里形成了一个亲密的小团体－－哈迪挪尔太太忙着做针线，时常停下来用那双完美的手以富有表情的手势比划着扯东扯西；罗伯特和庞德烈太太则啥也不做地坐着，偶尔说句话、交换个脸色或者微笑，表明他俩志同道合到了比较高的亲密程度。
在过去的一个月里他都跟她形影不离。对此谁也没啥看法。罗伯特一来很多人就预料到了他会把自己奉献给庞德烈太太。罗伯特从十五岁起，那是十一年前，每年夏天在大观岛上愿意做的事就是担当好看的姑娘或者妇人的忠诚的侍者。有时候是位年轻姑娘，甚至是寡妇；但大约一半时候是某个有意思的已婚女人。
他曾在杜威娜小姐的阳光下连续生活了两个节气，可是第二年夏天没到她就死了；如今罗伯特摆出个伤心已极的样子匍匐在哈蒂挪尔太太的脚下行乞能讨到点什么就是什么反正她高兴时肯定会施舍点表示同情和安慰的面包屑。
庞德烈太太喜欢坐着端详她的秀美的女同伴就如同仰望完美无瑕的圣母一样。
“谁能看出她那美丽的外表下面深藏着残忍” ？罗伯特小声说。“她知道我早就宠她，她也让我宠。老是‘罗伯特，来；去；起来；坐下；做这个；做那个；去看看小宝贝是不是睡了；求您了、我的顶针天知道放在哪儿啦；来，我做针线你给我读都得（译注：都得是位法国作家）的书” 。
“老天在上！我根本就没求过你。是你老在我的脚边转，像只讨厌的猫” 。
“你是说像只钟情的狗吧？只要哈迪挪尔露面，就像只狗叫：“走开！再见！快走开” ！
她故作天真、打断他说：“也许我是怕阿尔方塞（注：哈迪挪尔是她丈夫的姓，阿尔方塞是她丈夫的名字）嫉妒吧” 。一句话说得大家笑起来。右手嫉妒左手！心嫉妒灵魂！但是话说回来，那位克里奥人丈夫从不嫉妒人，这种炭疽般的激情在他身上从来就不曾发作过所以已经变得细微了。

   They formed a congenial group sitting there that summer afternoon - Madame Ratignolle sewing away, often stopping to relate a story or incident with much expressive gesture of her perfect hands; Robert and Mrs. Pontellier sitting idle, exchanging occasional words, glances or smiles which indicated a certain advanced stage of intimacy and camaraderie.
      He had lived in her shadow during the past month. No one thought anything of it. Many had predicted that Robert would devote himself to Mrs. Pontellier when he arrived. Since the age of fifteen, which was eleven years before, Robert each summer at Grand Isle had constituted himself the devoted attendant of some fair dame or damsel. Sometimes it was a young girl, again a widow; but as often as not it was some interesting married woman.
      For two consecutive seasons he lived in the sunlight of Mademoiselle Duvigné\'s presence. But she died between summers; then Robert posed as an inconsolable, prostrating himself at the feet of Madame Ratignolle for whatever crumbs of sympathy and comfort she might be pleased to vouchsafe.
      Mrs. Pontellier liked to sit and gaze at her fair companion as she might look upon a faultless Madonna.
      \"Could any one fathom the cruelty beneath that fair exterior?\" murmured Robert. \"She knew that I adored her once, and she let me adore her. It was \'Robert, come; go; stand up; sit down; do this; do that; see if the baby sleeps; my thimble, please, that I left God knows where. Come and read Daudet to me while I sew.\' \"
      \"Par exemple! I never had to ask. You were always there under my feet, like a troublesome cat.\"
      \"You mean like an adoring dog. And just as soon as Ratignolle appeared on the scene, then it was like a dog. \'Passez! Adieu! Allez vous-en!\' \"
      \"Perhaps I feared to make Alphonse jealous,\" she interjoined, with excessive naïveté. That made them all laugh. The right hand jealous of the left! The heart jealous of the soul! But for that matter, the Creole husband is never jealous; with him the gangrene passion is one which has become dwarfed by disuse.

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-5 11:52:22

到此围绕女主人公的三个主要人物全都出场完毕。
首先是庞德烈先生，女主人公的冤家对头，作者对他的描写较为客观，不直接说出他的缺点，而是让读者自己判断。比如说，读者可以看出庞德烈先生说小孩子发高烧是他编造的整人的理由。
然后是哈蒂诺尔夫人，显然她和埃德娜是互为反衬的人物，而罗伯特和埃德娜是互补关系。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-6 08:58:21

５（２）

与此同时罗伯特继续对庞德烈太太讲他曾对哈蒂挪尔太太怀有的不可救药的激情；讲到他夜夜难以入眠，讲到他每天跳到海里去时那吞噬身心的激情的火焰把大海烧得吱吱响，而那位忙着做针线的女士则老是用法语简短又含混地说着轻蔑的话：
“丑八怪－－小丑－－傻气，得了吧” ！
他独自和庞德烈太太在一起时从不用这种半认真半挑逗的口气说话。她从未能够确切理解这种口气；此刻也猜不出里面有多少是开玩笑有哪部分是当真。他经常对哈蒂娜尔女士说些表达爱意的话语，但他根本没想到这些话会被当真，这是大家的理解。庞德烈太太很高兴他对她本人没玩这么个角色。那会是不可接受并且是讨厌的。
庞德烈太太带来了她的绘画的东西，有时她也乱画几笔没专业水平。她喜欢这么画，从中得到某种做任何其其它事不能给予她的满足。
她一直想拿哈蒂娜尔太太练笔。此刻那位女士有点像给人愉悦的圣母样坐在那里，慢慢暗淡着的天色渲染着她的光辉，使她比以往任何时候都让人想把她当作绘画的题材。
罗伯特走过去坐在庞德烈太太下面的那级台阶上，以便看她作画。她挥笔作画潇洒自如，不是因为她曾长期又细心地练笔练得熟练，而是出于某种天生本能。罗伯特仔细看着她作画，用法语对哈蒂娜尔女士说些简短的话表示赞叹：
“的确不错！她是懂行。她有天赋啊” 。
有次他不经意又不动声色地把头靠在庞德烈太太的胳膊上。她同样轻轻地把他推开。他重复着又冒犯一次。除了以为那是无意的之外她不可能有其它想法，但这并不是她得接受的理由。她没有责备，只是再次轻轻但又坚定地把他推开。他没道歉。
画出来的画不像哈迪挪尔太太。她很失望地发现画得很不像。不过还算是件艺术品，有许多地方令人满意。
庞德烈太太可不这么认为。她挑剔地看了一眼后在画面上狠狠涂了笔油彩，然后用两只手揉成一团。
      Meanwhile Robert, addressing Mrs. Pontellier, continued to tell of his one time hopeless passion for Madame Ratignolle; of sleepless nights, of consuming flames till the very sea sizzled when he took his daily plunge. While the lady at the needle kept up a little running, contemptuous comment:
      \"Blagueur - Farceur - gros bête, va!\"
      He never assumed this serio-comic tone when alone with Mrs. Pontellier. She never knew precisely what to make of it; at that moment it was impossible for her to guess how much of it was jest and what proportion was earnest. It was understood that he had often spoken words of love to Madame Ratignolle, without any thought of being taken seriously. Mrs. Pontellier was glad he had not assumed a similar rôle toward herself. It would have been unacceptable and annoying.
      Mrs. Pontellier had brought her sketching materials, which she sometimes dabbled with in an unprofessional way. She liked the dabbling. She felt in it satisfaction of a kind which no other employment afforded her.
      She had long wished to try herself on Madame Ratignolle. Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.
      Robert crossed over and seated himself upon the step below Mrs. Pontellier, that he might watch her work. She handled her brushes with a certain ease and freedom which came, not from long and close acquaintance with them, but from a natural aptitude. Robert followed her work with close attention, giving forth little ejaculatory expressions of appreciation in French, which he addressed to Madame Ratignolle.
      \"Mais ce n\'est pas mal! Elle s\'y connait, elle a de la force, oui.\"
      During his oblivious attention he once quietly rested his head against Mrs. Pontellier\'s arm. As gently she repulsed him. Once again he repeated the offense. She could not but believe it to be thoughtlessness on his part; yet that was no reason she should submit to it. She did not remonstrate, except again to repulse him quietly but firmly. He offered no apology.
      The picture completed bore no resemblance to Madame Ratignolle. She was greatly disappointed to find that it did not look like her. But it was a fair enough piece of work, and in many respects satisfying.
      Mrs. Pontellier evidently did not think so. After surveying the sketch critically she drew a broad smudge of paint across its surface, and crumpled the paper between her hands.

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-7 10:14:24

５（３）

小家伙们跌跌撞撞地跑上了台阶，混血黑人保姆跟在后面按照他们的要求隔着一段距离表示尊重。庞德烈太太让他们把她的油彩等东西搬到屋里去。她想他们留一会儿好说点闲话逗逗乐。可是他们极其认真。他们只是来看看棒棒糖盒子里的内容的。他们捧开着两只红润细嫩的手，徒劳地希望得到满满一大捧，毫无声息地接受了她愿意给的那么多之后就走开了。
太阳低垂在西，从南边吹来了懒慵慵的温和的微风，带着大海的诱人气味迎面扑来。孩子们刚换过衣裳，正聚集在橡树下准备玩游戏。他们说话的声音尖且刺耳。
哈蒂娜尔女士折叠好针线活，把顶针、剪刀和线整齐地放到针线包里扣紧，然后诉说头昏。庞德烈太太飞快地拿来香水和扇子，给她脸上喷香水，罗伯特同时过分卖力地给她扇扇子，
头痛发作一会儿后就完了，庞德烈太太不禁感到好奇这头痛会不会是想象出来的，因为她朋友脸颊上的玫瑰色红润根本就不曾消褪过。
她站着注视着这位美人以女皇偶尔才有的风度和气派沿着长廊走下去。她的小家伙们跑过来迎上去。其中有两个边走边拉着她的白裙，第三个她从保姆手里接过来欢喜地抱在怀里念叨着成千个亲昵称呼走下去。大家都知道大夫不准她抱这么重的东西，她抱着竟如抱根针！
“想游泳吗” ？罗伯特问庞德烈太太，如其说是问还不如说是提醒。
“呵，不想” ，她答道，语调不坚定。“我累了；不想去” 。她的目光从他脸上移向海湾，大海的耳语在她耳里像表达着爱意但也不可抗拒的请求鸣响。
“走吧” ！他坚持道，“千万别错过沐浴。快走吧,海水肯定很有味，不会害你的。快走吧” 。
他抬起手拿上她挂在门外大木钉上的那顶大草帽，放到她的头顶。他们走下台阶，一起朝海滩走去。太阳低垂在西，微风温柔又和煦。
      The youngsters came tumbling up the steps, the quadroon following at the respectful distance which they required her to observe. Mrs. Pontellier made them carry her paints and things into the house. She sought to detain them for a little talk and some pleasantry. But they were greatly in earnest. They had only come to investigate the contents of the bonbon box. They accepted without murmuring what she chose to give them, each holding out two chubby hands scoop-like, in the vain hope that they might be filled; and then away they went.
      The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that came up from the south, charged with the odor of the sea. Children, freshly befurbelowed, were gathering for their games under the oaks. Their voices were high and penetrating.
      Madame Ratignolle folded her sewing, placing thimble, scissors and thread all neatly together in the roll, which she pinned securely. She complained of faintness. Mrs. Pontellier flew for the cologne water and a fan. She bathed Madame Ratignolle\'s face with cologne, while Robert plied the fan with unnecessary vigor.
      The spell was soon over, and Mrs. Pontellier could not help wondering if there were not a little imagination responsible for its origin, for the rose tint had never faded from her friend\'s face.
      She stood watching the fair woman walk down the long line of galleries with the grace and majesty which queens are sometimes supposed to possess. Her little ones ran to meet her. Two of them clung about her white skirts, the third she took from its nurse and with a thousand endearments bore it along in her own fond, encircling arms. Though, as everybody well knew, the doctor had forbidden her to lift so much as a pin!
      \"Are you going bathing?\" asked Robert of Mrs. Pontellier. It was not so much a question as a reminder.
      \"Oh, no,\" she answered, with a tone of indecision. \"I\'m tired; I think not.\" Her glance wandered from his face away toward the Gulf, whose sonorous murmur reached her like a loving but imperative entreaty.
      \"Oh, come!\" he insisted. \"You mustn\'t miss your bath. Come on. The water must be delicious; it will not hurt you. Come.\"
      He reached up for her big, rough straw hat that hung on a peg outside the door, and put it on her head. They descended the steps, and walked away together toward the beach. The sun was low in the west and the breeze was soft and warm.

译注：注意作者描写哈蒂娜尔和庞德烈太太时采用的不同语调。

沅湘 · 发表于 2006-6-9 08:57:09

６

埃得娜٠庞德烈想和罗伯特一起到海边去，但她不知道为什么她先是拒绝，后来才服从了驱使她的两个矛盾着的本能冲动中的一个。
她内心开始出现某种朦胧的光亮，－－这光亮既指明着道路又不让人通行。
在开始时它只会使她迷惑、使她进入梦幻、进入沉思、进入那天半夜里曾使她屈服、使她尽情痛哭的模糊不清的痛苦。
总而言之，庞德烈太太开始意识到她作为一个人的生命在宇宙里的位置，开始知道她个人和身内和身外两个世界的关系。降临到一位二十八岁的年轻女子的灵魂里的智慧也许沉重－－神灵也许赋予了这女子更多的智慧，多于平常高兴时给与任何其他女人的智慧。
不过事物、尤其是一个世界的开头，必然是暧昧、混乱、交错并且非常令人不安的。从中脱颖而出的人多么少！消亡于其喧嚣中的灵魂多么的多！
大海的话语是勾引的话语，低语着、细吟着、呼喊着、永不停息，邀请灵魂到孤独的深渊中闯荡到神情恍惚，迷失在内向思考的迷宫中。
大海的话语是和灵魂交谈的话语。大海抚慰着感官，温柔地紧抱着肉体。

VI
      Edna Pontellier could not have told why, wishing to go to the beach with Robert, she should in the first place have declined, and in the second place have followed in obedience to one of the two contradictory impulses which impelled her.
      A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her, - the light which, showing the way, forbids it.
      At that early period it served but to bewilder her. It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight when she had abandoned herself to tears.
      In short, Mrs. Pontellier was beginning to realize her position in the universe as a human being, and to recognize her relations as an individual to the world within and about her. This may seem like a ponderous weight of wisdom to descend upon the soul of a young woman of twenty-eight - perhaps more wisdom than the Holy Ghost is usually pleased to vouchsafe to any woman.
      But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing. How few of us ever emerge from such beginning! How many souls perish in its tumult!
      The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.
      The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

译注：到此第一部分章共六节译完了，这一节虽短，但是重要的转折点；过一段时间后再上第二部分。

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