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Dark Angle(翻译连载一)

(2009-08-11 08:57:57)
标签:

小说

连载

文化

翻译

分类: UNCLE赵&他国际事务部的同事们

Dark Angle,一本据说是15年前的畅销小说,因为至今在国内没有看见其中文版,国际部的同事准备在这里用这种方式推荐给大家。

 

Dark Angle

The fortuneteller and my godmother

 

I went to a fortuneteller once. His name was Mr.Chatterjee; his premises were a small shop between a pastry maker and a silk dealer, in the middle of the bazaar in Delhi.

 

It was not my idea to consult Mr.Chatterjee; I didn’t believe in fortunetellers, horoscopes, Tarot cards, the I Ching—none of that tempting mumbo-jumbo. Neither, I think, did my friend Wexton, although it was he who made the suggestion to go.

Mr.Chatterjee had been recommended to Wexton. One of the Indians we had met on this visit gave him a glowing testimonial – it might have been Mr. Gopal from the university, or maybe the Maharani. The next day, on a visit to the bazaar, Wexton located his premises; the day after, he suggested I visit him.

 

Traveling with Wexton was always full of surprises. I thought, why not?

 

“Won’t you come too, Wexton?” I said. “He could read both our fortunes.”

 

Wexton smiled his benevolent smile.

 

“At my age,” he replied, “you don’t need a fortuneteller to predict your future, Victoria.”

 

A nod toward the graveyard,Wexton gave no sign of melancholy. I set off for my future the next afternoon.

 

On the way, pushing though the crowded alleyways of the bazaar, I considered the question of age. In a Victorian novel – the kind my father liked – a woman is old at twenty-five, over the hill by thirty. Now, in the 1980s, due partly to the influence of sudsy television, a woman is still judged young at fifty. But when I went to see Mr.Chatterjee it was 1968. People had begun to wear buttons that said don’t trust anyone over thirty.

 

Wexton, well into his seventies, found that very amusing. I was not sure I did.

 

When I went to visit my fortuneteller I was single, childless, a success—I suppose—at my chosen career. I was also almost thirty-eight years old.

 

 

 

算命师和我的教母

 

我去算过一次命。算命师的名字是Chatterjee ;他的地点是一个位于糕点生产商和丝绸经销商之间的小商店,在德里集市的中央。
向Chatterjee咨询不是我的主意 ;我不相信算命,占星术,塔罗牌,易经,一点也不吸引我。我想我的朋友Wexton也不感兴趣,尽管是他建议我去算命的。

Mr.Chatterjee被推荐给Wexton 。是一个我们在此行中遇到的印度人热烈推荐,可能是大学的Gopal,或者是Maharain 。第二天,前往集市, Wexton找到了他的地点;之后的第二天,他建议我去拜访那位算命师。
和Wexton同行总是充满了惊奇。我想,为什么不呢?
“你不一起来吗,Wexton ? ”我说。 “他可以预知我们的命运 。 ”
Wexton和善的微笑 “在我的年龄,”他答道,“不需要算命师预测你的未来,Victoria。 ” 向墓地点了点头。 Wexton没有任何忧郁的迹象。第二天下午我就去确定我的未来。

在路上,穿过集市拥挤的小巷的时候,我考虑了关于年龄的问题。在我父亲喜欢的那种维多利亚时代的小说里,女人25岁就算老了,30岁可以说是跨过了一道山。现在,在19世纪80年代,受肥皂剧的部分影响,50岁的女人仍被认为年轻。但是当我去咨询Chatterjee算命师的时候是1968年。人们已经开始穿按钮,那表示不要相信任何人都超过30的人。

Wexton 的70多岁非常有趣。我不敢确定我是否可以。

当我算命时,我单身,无子女,我猜想在我选择的职业我是成功的。同时我也几乎三十八年岁了。

------张乐萌

 

 

The visit to India had been Wexton’s idea. For the three months before we left I had been in England, at Winterscombe, helping my uncle Steenie to die—at least trying to ensure that when he did, he did so easily, without physic pain

 

Morphine cocktails work—indeed Steenie claimed they were nearly as good as champagne—but there were, inevitably, other pangs for which medicine was less effective. When Steenie finally died, I lost an uncle I loved, one of the last members of my family. Wexton lost his oldest friend, an iconoclast who had once, I suspected, been more than a friend— though neither Steenie nor Wexton ever spoke of this.

 

“Look at us,” Wexton said, when we were alone at Winterscombe. “As gloomy as two bookends. We should go away, Victoria. How about India?”

 

It was a surprising suggestion. Claiming pressures of work(in fact fearing introspection), I had not taken a vacation in eight years. Wexton, whose poetry had made him internationally famous, never took holidays at all. American by birth, but an expatriate for some fifty years, Wexton had made his den in an untidy, book-filled house in Church Row, Hampstead; he disliked being coaxed out of it. It was entirely unlike him to accept an invitation to be lionized in Delhi, of all places. However, he did. He would go, he said; what was more, I would go with him. I was anxious to escape grief and the responsibility of Winterscombe (a great white elephant of a house—I would probably have to sell it), so I agreed. I rearranged my work schedule. Three days later we landed in Delhi.

 

Once there, Wexton gave his lecture at the university, read some of his famous poems to a distinguished audience of Indians, Europeans, and Americans, and then gracefully but firmly, decamped.

 

Wexton has written lines that have stained my mind (as perhaps they have yours); as great poetry does, they have become an indissoluble part of my thinking. Many of his poems are about love, time and change. As I listened to him read I thought of lost opportunities, a broken love affair eight years before, and my own age; I felt unspeakably sad.

 

到印度游玩是Wexton的主意。去之前三个月,我一直呆在英国Winterscombe,陪伴我叔叔走完人生最后一段,希冀着自己能让他不太痛苦地离开这个世界。

 

吗啡鸡尾酒效果还不错,Steenie甚至认为他们喝起来像香槟一样美味,但无法避免,有些剧痛是药物都无法控制的。Steenie去世后,我失去了我爱戴的叔叔,失去了家族最后一名成员。Wexton失去了他的老朋友,我曾怀疑,像我叔叔这样的反偶像派与Wexton之间有一段超出一般友谊的关系,虽然他们两人都没有提过此事。

 

只有我们两个人一起时,Wexton说:“看看我俩,犹如两个遥不相及的书夹般忧伤。我们应该出去走走,Victoria. 我们去印度吧?”

 

这建议出乎意料。打着工作压力大的幌子,我已经8年没有度假(事实上我是害怕自我反省)。 Wexton是国际大有名气的诗人,从来都不度假,出生在美国,却做了50多年美国侨胞。Wexton住在Hampstead,Church Row,他的房间有点乱,堆满了书。他不喜欢别人哄他离开他的窝。接受德里的邀请去做讲座,绝对不是他的风格,但他真是接受了。他说他会去,而且,我将跟他一起去。我迫切逃离失去叔叔的伤痛,逃离Winterscombe的责任,于是我答应跟他去。我重新安排了工作日程,三天后,我们在德里降落。

 

到了德里后,Wexton就到大学授课,他给来自世界各地的听众,印度的,欧洲的,美国的,朗诵他著名的诗歌。然后,大方并坚定地逃离了讲坛。

 

Wexton 写的诗深深得烙在我脑海里(犹如他们掌控了你的大脑);如一般的伟大篇章,他们已经成为了我思索不可分离的一部分。他大部分的诗歌都是以爱情,时间和变化为主题。我听他朗读他的诗时,我脑海里浮现了自己错失的机会,8年前失去的一段感情,及自己的年龄。想到这些,心中冉起了一股无法言喻的滋味。

------罗丹

 

 

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