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Dark Angle(翻译连载十八)

(2010-07-19 10:18:35)
标签:

翻译

小说

连载

文化

分类: UNCLE赵&他国际事务部的同事们

Since my mother was away, those lessons were conducted entirely by Mr.Birdsong and concentrated on his own strong points: Latin, history, mathematics, robust and heroic English poetry. I was not very good at any of these subjects, and I think, looking back, that it must have been tiresome for Mr.Birdsong to have to teach me, although, if so, he disguised his impatience well. From the first day that Franz-Jacob joined my classes, Mr.Birdsong blossomed.

   I was still struggling then with long division and making little progress. Franz-Jacob whose English was limited, provided Mr.Birdsong with a chance to try out his German-that was the first excitement. The second excitement was his ability at mathematics. They bagan, I remember, with equations: A textbook was produced and Franz-Jacob bent over his desk. The sun shone; the room was warm; his pen scratched. In the length of time it took me to complete two sums, Franz-Jacob had completed an entire exercise.

 

由于我妈妈不在,课程都由波德森先生教授,并且教的都是他的强项∶拉丁文,历史,数学,以及英语英雄诗体。这些课程我学的都不是特别好,回想起来,波德森先生肯定觉得教我是件令人生厌的事情,就算如此他还是掩饰了他的厌烦之情。而从法朗兹·嘉科博跟我一起上课的第一天起,波德森先生就乐开了怀。

   当时我正苦苦挣扎于除法的学习中,没有什么进步。法朗兹·嘉科博的英语不好,给了波德森先生一个用德语授课的机会。这是第一件令人兴奋的事。第二件令人兴奋的事就是法朗兹·嘉科博在数学方面表现出来的才能。我记得,才能是从学习方程式开始展现的∶教科书发下来了,法朗兹·嘉科博弯腰伏在课桌上认真用功。太阳照的课室很暖和,他字写得飞快。在同一段时间里,我只完成了两道算术题,而法朗兹·嘉科博已经做完了所有的练习。

 

--潘玲

 

     He took it up to Mr. Birdsong and presented the pages with a small bow; Mr. Birdsong checked them over. He nodded; he clicked his tongue in admiration; he appeared at first surprised and then became pink in the face, a sign of excitement.

     “This is very good, Franz-Jacob. Das ist werklich sehr gut. My goodness me, yes. Shall we try our hand at some fractions?”

     Franz-Jacob shrugged. The fractions exercise was completed equally quickly. From that moment on, Mr. Birdsong was like a man reborn: He entered the schoolroom with a new energy in his step. I saw, for the first time, a glimpse of the man he used to be: a gifted mathematician at Oxford who, at his father’s behest, had abandoned an academic career to take up Holy Orders.

     I was neglected after that, but I did not mind. Mr. Birdsong might set me poems to learn or might encourage me to write out the important dates of the Reformation, but although he remained kindly there was no fire in his eyes when he heard the poems or the lists of dates. The fire was reserved for Franz-Jacob. They had moved on to calculus, and Mr. Birdsong’s hand shook a little when he opened the textbook.

 

他把做好的练习拿给波德森先生,并向他鞠了一躬。波德森先生仔细检查着,一边点着头,一边用舌头发出表示赞许的声响。他起初表现出惊喜的神情,然后脸上一阵红晕,那是兴奋点的表情。

法朗兹.嘉科博,你完成得非常好。我的天呀,没错。我们要不要再来试试分数?”

法朗兹.嘉科博耸耸肩。他的分数习题也同样做得很快。自从那一刻起,波德森先生简直就像获得重生了一样:他踏入教室的脚步都带着活力。我曾经第一次看见他时:他俨然一副牛津天才数学家的形象,却碍于父亲的吩咐,放弃他热衷的教育事业而担任圣职。

在那之后我就被忽视了,但我并不介意。波德森先生曾建议我去品味一些诗词,或是鼓励我将某些重要的历史变革的日子写下来;但尽管他保持友好与亲切感,当他听到我对诗词的赏析或是将历史事件的日期倒背如流时,他的眼中却从未闪烁出光芒。然而这光芒是为法朗兹.嘉科博而保留的。他们已从分数升级至微积分了,当波德森先生打开课本的那一刻,他的手微微颤抖了一下。

 

--王芳泽

 

 

I thought Mr. Birdsong’s reaction was entirely proper. Franz-Jacob was exceptional-I, too, could see that. He was unlike anyone I had ever met.

 

To look at, he was small and slightly built, but with a wiry strength that made the bigger English boys wary of bullying him. He had a narrow, intense face, dark eyes, and thin black hair worn cropped short at the nape of the neck and long at the front, so it often fell across his eyes when he worked; he would push it back impatiently. He rarely smiled. There was in his eyes and expression I was unfamiliar with then, though I have seen it since many times, an expression peculiar to those Europeans whose families have been persecuted in the past and may yet be persecuted again: European eyes, which regard even happiness warily.

 

He was a solemn child, in many ways an old-fashioned one; he was lonely. I, too, was lonely, with my parents away; I think I was solemn, and I was certainly old-fashioned, for I had been brought up to believe in a way of life and a set of standards that were already dying. Perhaps it was not so surprising that we should become friends.

 

All summer Franz-Jacob and I were inseparable. At night, when he returned to his dormitory with the other boys, we would signal Morse code messages to each other from our windows, with flashlights. During the day, when lessons were over, he would remain with me at the house. He became a great favorite with my aunt Maud, whose German was idiosyncratic but effective. Aunt Maud bombarded him with stories about Kaiser Wilhelm, whom she had known but disliked. She took great pleasure in explaining Franz’s dietary needs to the servants and the rest of family.

 

 

我觉得Birdsong先生的反应是完全正确的。Franz-Jacob是个特例,就连我也能看得出来,他和我遇到过的任何人都不一样。

 

他个子小而结实,精干有力,即使是大块头的英国小男孩也不敢轻易招惹他。他脸型狭长紧凑,黑眼睛,发型剪裁特别,脖子后面剪得极端,而额前又蓄长发,工作时额前的长发时常垂落在眼前,以致他常常不耐烦地把头发往后拨。他不苟言笑,我曾多次发现他对那些家庭受过迫害的或者可能再次被迫害的欧洲人流露出奇怪的眼神和表情,甚至有一点隐隐约约的高兴。

 

他是个阴郁的人,而且在很多方面都十分守旧,形单影只。我也是独来独往的人,父母也不在身边。我想我也是一个阴郁的人,由于我从小所接受的生活方式和行为标准已经快被时代所抛弃,我必然也是一个因循守旧之人。或许我与他成为朋友并没什么值得奇怪的。

 

整个夏天我都和Franz-Jacob形影不离。晚上,当他与其它孩子回宿舍后,我们会用手电筒在窗户上互打摩斯密码。白天,下课之后他会陪我一起呆在房子里。Maud姨妈也开始非常喜欢她。Maud姨妈的德语讲得有点奇怪但是沟通顺畅。她向Franz灌输她熟知但又并不喜欢的威廉皇帝的故事。同时,她也在向仆人和其它家人解释Franz的饮食需求中获得极大的愉悦和满足。

 

——吴昱宏

 

“No roast pork for Franz-Jacob, William,” she would pronounce in a ringing voice. “I believe I asked for salmon. Ah yes, here it is! Now, Franz-Jacob, you may eat that quite safely. I went down to the kitchen to supervise the cooking myself, and I know about such things! Have I mentioned my friend Montague to you? Yes, of course I have. Well, Montague was not entirely strict, you understand, but even so I made quite sure he was never offered bacon in my house. And as for sausages---I banished sausages from the breakfast table. And a very good thing too. I am suspicious of sausages. As I have always said, one never quite knows what goes into them…”

 

My uncle Freddie took to him, too, especially when he discovered that Franz-Jacob liked dogs and was more than willing to exercise the greyhounds. Uncle Freddie had a new project, a new enthusiasm that required him to spend long hours in the library with notebooks---an enthusiasm whose precise nature he refused to explain. A stout man, reluctant to walk any distance, Uncle Freddie was delighted to be able to remain in the library, leaving the greyhounds to Franz-Jacob and to me.

 

All summer, it seemed, Franz-Jacob and I walked: We wailed down to the lake and along the river; we explored the village and the decaying cottage, alone at the end of a lane, where Jack Hennessy lived. We walked up past the cornfield, which always produced such an unsatisfactory crop, and along the boundary walls of my father’s estate.

 

“William ,Franz-Jacob 不吃烤猪肉”, 她响亮的回答。 “我想我点了鲑鱼。哦。对。它们在这!现在,Franz-Jacob 你可以放心的享用了。我走进厨房亲自监督,我对此相当熟悉!我有向你提起过我的朋友Montague吗?我当然有过。你也知道,Montague很严肃,但我确定他从没在我这要过熏肉。对于香肠---我在早餐中取消了香肠,我觉得这样很好,我不喜欢香肠。正如我所经常说的,一个人永远不会知道他们其中的秘密…”

 

我的叔叔Freddie去找他,发现Franz-Jacob喜欢小狗,并很喜欢训练灰狗。Freddie叔叔有一个计划,很有激情,他要在图书馆度过漫长的时间---他对此拒绝做任何解释。对于像Freddie叔叔这样一个矮胖而且懒的多动的男人来说,待在图书馆太适合不过了,他把灰狗丢给了Franz-Jacob和我。

 

Franz-Jacob和我好像在整个夏天都在散步:我们在湖畔、河边散步;我们在山谷探险,在一个小路的尽头Jack Hennessy住的地方,发现了废弃的村舍。我们走过玉米田,一个总是生产不叫人喜欢的农作物的地方,我们还越过了我父亲房子的围墙。

 

                                                                  ------张帅

 

We walked and we talked. I taught Franz-Jacob some English and he taught me some German. He told me about his father, who had been a university professor but who had, the previous year, been relieved of his post. He described his mother, his two older brother, and his three younger sisters. None of these members of his family were to survive the coming war, and although he could not have known that, I used to wonder afterwards if Franz-Jacob had had some intuition of what was to come, for although he spoke of them with affection, his eyes were always sad. They were fixed on that European horizon, filled with a future, yet remembered pain.

I had never had a confidant of my own age, and by nature I was not secretive. We explored Winterscombe and I told Franz-Jacob everything. I told him about the house and how it ate money; I told him about Uncle Freddie’s enthusiasms and the way they fizzled; I told him my Uncle Steenie’s mysterious ambition to be the Best-Kept Boy in the World; I told him about Aunt Maud, and the amber velvet dress that did not fit; I explained the terrible misfortune it was to be born with freckles and red curly hair.

 

我们边走边聊。我教Franz-Jacob英语,他教我德语。他告诉我有关他父亲的情况,他父亲曾经是一位大学教授,但后来被辞退了。他还向我描述了他的母亲、两个哥哥和三个妹妹。他的这些家庭成员都没能在后来的战争中生存下来,他当时也没料到后来会发生这些事情。之后我常常想Franz-Jacob是否当时对即将发生的事情有预感,因为尽管他说起这些的时候很开心,但他的眼睛里总是充满忧伤的。他的眼光固定在欧洲的地平线上,对未来充满憧憬,但也带着难以忘却的伤痛。

我从没有一个同龄的知心朋友,而我天生是一个坦率的人。我们一起探索Winterscomb,我告诉Franz-Jacob所有的事情。我告诉他房子的情况以及房子很能“吃”钱。我告诉他Freddie叔叔的过度热情。我告诉他Steenie叔叔那难以理解的抱负——想成为世界上保养最好的男孩。我告诉他关于Maud阿姨的情况,以及不合身的黄色天鹅绒连衣裙。我向他诉说天生就有雀斑和红色卷发的不幸。

 

                                                         ——罗荻飞

 

 

Franz-Jacob, who knew better than I did what true misfortune was, was patient. Encouraged, I told him the more terrible things, I told him about Charlotte, my godmother Constance , and my terrible lie, I told him about the prayers I stilled said, every morning and every evening. I held my breath, for I was in awe of Franz-Jacob and I quite expected him to damn me.

As it was, he merely shrugged. ”Why worry? This girl is a stupid girl , and your parents ,they are good people. Das ist alles selbstverstandlich….”

No condemnation; he whistled to the dogs and we walked on. It was that day, I think, when we returned to the house, that Franz-Jacob—who had been talking about mathematics, which he said liked because they were perfect and inevitable, like the best music—suddenly stopped on the steps that led up to the terrace.

He looked down into my face, his expression intent, as if he saw me for the first time. ”You know how , many freckles you have? ”he said at last, stepping back.

 

Franz-Jacob,比我还了解是多么的不幸,非常的有耐性。在鼓动下,我告诉他了更多的糟糕的事情,我告诉了他有关Charlotte的事情,我的祖母Constance的事情,还有我的糟糕的谎言,我告诉了他我每天早晚都会祈祷的事情。我屏住了呼吸,因为我很敬畏Franz-Jacob,我也希望他能责备一下我。

事实上,他只是耸了耸肩,说到“为什么忧虑呢?这个女孩是个笨女孩,她的父母是好人”。

没有什么指责,他向狗吹了一下口哨就走了。我想就在那天,当我们回到家,Franz-Jacob讨论了一下数学,他喜欢的数学被他形容为完美的和不可回避的,就像最好的音乐—突然停止然后层层进入。

他俯视我的脸,他的表情是那么的专注,仿佛他是第一次看我。“你知道你有多少雀斑吗?”最后他说道,然后就退后了。                                                                    

                                                                                -----宋婷

 

 “How many?” I remember thinking it cruel of him to count.

“Seventy-two. You know something else?”

“What?”

“I don’t mind them. They’re all right.”

“You’re sure?”

“Naturlich.”

He gave me an impatient glance, as if I were being slow, the way he did sometimes when we took our lessons. Then he ran up the steps, the dogs at his heels, and left me at their foot, scarlet and rejoicing.

The special day came many weeks after this, toward the end of August. I didn’t know it was going to be a special day until it was almost over, but it was an odd day from the very beginning.

That morning, for the first time in three months I left out the prayer about New York and my godmother Constance. I had begun to understand the folly of that particular fiction and the impossibility, once Charlotte returned from Italy, of sustaining it. Franz-Jacob’s robust dismissal of Charlotte—this girl is a stupid girl-had given me strength. Why should I care what Charlotte thought? I neither liked her nor admired her. She might judge my family dull and shabby, but Franz-Jacob, who was a much better judge, said Winsterscombe was magical place, and he knew my parents were good people.

“有多少呀?” 我心里认为他很残忍,居然算我有多少条皱纹。

 

“72条。除此之外,还有其他东西,你知道吗?”

 

“什么?”

 

“我觉得没关系,它们都没有影响。”

 

“你确定?”

 

“确定。”

 

他不耐烦地憋了我一眼,似乎暗示我反应很慢。我们上课的时候,他偶尔也会这样看我。接着,他跑上楼梯,家里的狗也跟在他旁边,将我留在身后。

 

几个星期后,在8月底,迎来了特殊的一天。我一直都不知道特殊的日子即将到来,直到它将要过去了。那天从一开始就很特殊。

 

那天早上,三个月以来第一次,我抛开对纽约和教母Constance的祷告。自Charlotte从意大利回来后,我突然明白自己虚构的世界十分可笑,明白自己不可能承受如此之多。Franz-Jacob坚持解雇Charlotte,认为她是个傻瓜,给了我力量。为什么我要介意Charlotte的想法呢?我既不喜欢她,也不羡慕她。或许她会认为我家人很木讷,很愚昧,但是我认为Franz-Jacob的看法更加中肯,他说Winterscombe 是个很神奇的地方,而且他认为我家人都是好人。

                                                                        ---罗丹

 

 

 

I felt clean for leaving out the prayer, and curiously freed. Even my lessons with Mr. Birdsong went better than they usually did; I could be promoted quite soon, he hinted, to algebra.

 

After lunch Franz-jacob and I took the greyhounds for their walk. We took the path down by the lake, as we often did, and stopped to look at the black swans; then—and this was more unusual—we turned in the direction of the Winterscombe woods. For some reason Franz-jacob disliked these woods, although I loved them at all seasons of the year, and particularly in the summer for the coolness of their shade.

 

That day it was very hot; Franz-jacob gave one of his shrugs and agreed to go that way. We might, even so, have just skirted the edge of the trees and then branched off on the path to the village, but the two greyhounds caught a scent and raced off; we were forced to follow them, calling and whistling, deeper and deeper into the woods, where the paths became narrow and overgrown.

 

抛开了祷告后我感觉很轻松,有一种莫名的解脱。我在Birdsong先生教导下的功课甚至比往常更好了。他暗示我,我的代数很快就可得到提高了。

午餐后,Franz-jacob和我出去遛狗。我们和往常一样沿着湖边的小路走,然后停下来观赏黑天鹅;然后-和往常不一样的是-我们转向往Winterscombe小树林走去。出于某些原因,Franz-jacob 不喜欢这些小树林,但我却在一年中的任何一个季节都很喜爱这些树林,特别是在夏季,因为他们的树荫可以带来清凉。

那一天非常的热;Franz-jacob耸了耸肩,同意走那条路。即使这样,我们也只是沿着树林的边缘走,然后改道向村子里走,但是两只灰狗闻到了某种气味并且追着气味跑;我们无奈只好追着它们,一边喊一边吹口哨,不知不觉就来到了树林深处,小路变得狭窄而且杂草丛生。

 

                                                                  -----王旭

 

We passed the place where my grandfather had kept his pheasant pens, and then turned aside, down a path thick with brambles. I was a little ahead of Franz-Jacob; I could hear the dogs crashing in the undergrowth, and I could see in front of me the open sunlight of a clearing, where I had walked sometimes with Jenna.

 

“They are through here, Franz. Come on,” I called back. I heard him hesitate, then the movement of the undergrowth and the snapping of sticks underfoot as he followed. It was only when he came out into the sunlight of clearing, and I saw his face, that I realized something was wrong.

 

Franz-Jacob was always pale. Now his face was drained if all color; sweat stood out on his forehead; he shrank in the warmth of the sunlight, shivering.

 

我们经过我祖父收藏鸡毛笔的地方,然后转身下到满是荆棘的小路。我走在Franz-Jacob前面,我能听到狗在灌木丛里冲撞,前面可以看到一片充满阳光的林中空地,我有时和Jenna一起走过那里。


“都是要经过这里,Franz。来吧,“我回头叫他。我听到他犹豫了,之后伴随着灌木丛的移动和脚下树枝的断裂声走过来。当他走进这个充满阳光的林中空地时,我看到他的脸,我意识到出事了。

Franz-Jacob的脸总是苍白。现在他的脸上布满了所有的颜色,满头大汗,蜷缩在阳光的温暖下发抖。

               

                                                                ——张乐萌

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