《创作哲学》实际上是爱伦·坡就《乌鸦》一诗的创作谈。他在这篇文章中告诉读者，在动笔写《乌鸦》之前，他对该诗的主题、效果、篇幅、格律、情调、情节乃至艺术振奋点（artistic piquancy）都进行了精心的设计。为了让该诗最富有诗意，他定下了“美女之夭亡加失美之哀伤”这一主题；基于他“美是效果而非品质”的理论，他决心要让该诗达到使人“灵魂激动”的效果；为了保证这种效果的统一性（即要让读者能一口气读完），他决定只写一百行左右（最后写成一百零八行）；为了让“美之极致使敏感的灵魂怆然涕下”，他选择了最适合诗的悲郁情调；为了格律的独创性，他配置了一种前人未曾尝试过的诗节；为了诗中有艺术振奋点，他煞费苦心地设计了一个其字眼不变但其含意却不断变化的叠句——永不复焉（Nevermore，《诠释》译作“再也不会”），而他决定让这个叠句出自乌鸦之口而不是鹦鹉之口也费了一番心思，最后用乌鸦取代鹦鹉是因为前者更能与悲郁的情调保持一致；为了让乌鸦与痛失佳人的青年之碰面富有戏剧性，他更是殚精竭虑地设计了全诗情节甚至细节。而且最令《诠释》作者揣测不到的是，他首先写出的并不是该诗第一小节，而是该诗的第十六小节，目的是为了先确定全诗的高潮。

附译者原文

        是诠释还是揣测——评《鸦声的诠释》
           曹明伦 文

  【按】爱伦·坡发表于1846年的《创作哲学》（The Philosophy of Composition）是作者就其《乌鸦》一诗的创作谈，值得读《乌鸦》的诗友一阅。笔者的中译文见于《中外诗歌研究》1998年第4期和安徽文艺出版社1999年版《爱伦·坡精品集》第661-674页。但笔者当年是爬格子，而非敲键盘，故该文无电子文稿。好在拙文《是诠释还是揣测——评〈鸦声的诠释〉》对《创作哲学》之要旨有所引用和阐释，故将其贴在这里，供阅读《乌鸦》的诗友参考。

    笔者近年屡屡感叹，当今学界“以其昭昭、使人昭昭”者寡，而“以其昏昏、使人昭昭”者众。记得读罢《名作欣赏》一九九八年三期上那篇《鸦声的诠释》（下文简称《诠释》），笔者也曾发出过这种感叹。《诠释》一文诠释的是美国诗人爱伦·坡的名诗《乌鸦》（《诠释》译作《渡鸦》），近日网页上有人说“把渡鸦译成乌鸦是差了点水准”。于是笔者觉得有必要对《诠释》一文进行一番评说，以期读过该文的读者对爱伦·坡的《乌鸦》一诗有更全面的认识。
 
    爱伦·坡这首诗的原名为The Raven，而将raven译成“乌鸦”或“渡鸦”都无可非议。陆谷孙教授编的《英汉大词典》把raven释为“渡鸦”，而粱实秋先生编的《远东英汉大辞典》则将其释为“乌鸦”，可这并不能说明梁先生就有失水准，分不清鸦科鸟的类别。毕竟一般人都习惯把羽毛乌黑的各种鸦统称为乌鸦，而不刻意去区分什么寒鸦、渡鸦或大嘴鸦之属种。

  《诠释》把raven译成“渡鸦”天经地义，但其对渡鸦的诠释却令人费解。《诠释》一开篇就告诉读者：“渡鸦是环北极地带特有的类似乌鸦的鸟。”可《辞海》却告诉读者渡鸦在中国有两个亚种，大江南北十余个省区都可见其踪迹。而《大英百科全书》（The New Encyclopedia Britannica）也说raven生活在北半球的许多地方）（resident over much of the Northern Hemisphere）。《哥伦比亚百科全书》（The Columbia Encyclopedia）则更明确地指出：Raven遍布欧亚大陆北部和北美洲（native to N Eurasia and North America）。由此可见，《诠释》对渡鸦这种鸟的诠释并不正确，因此有可能对Raven一诗的读者造成误导。

   《诠释》接下来告诉读者：“爱斯基摩人把渡鸦的爪子当做护身符挂在初生婴儿的脖子上，意喻孩子将像这能在北极严酷环境中生存下来的鸟一样，身体健康，长命百岁。但同时又像我们的习俗一样，渡鸦被当成一种不吉祥的象征，是死亡的代名词。生与死就这样联系在一起，和我们的红白喜事一般。爱斯基摩人认为，人死后，灵魂不死，将投胎到出生的婴儿身上。这和我们古人认为人死后，灵魂会重归故里颇似。有了这些背景知识，就不难再往下揣测。”

   实话实说，笔者当年阅读和翻译The Raven一诗时就不了解这些背景知识，笔者与人（包括一些英美学人）讨论这首诗时也不曾发现有人提到过这些背景。而且笔者实在不明白，这些语焉不详的背景知识与欣赏《乌鸦》一诗有何关系，更不明白“有了这些背景知识，就不难再往下揣测”这句话的真实含意。细心的读者都会发现，《诠释》在说这段话之前并没有揣测过什么，而只告诉过我们何为渡鸦。难道“渡鸦是环北极地带特有的类似乌鸦的鸟”也是一种揣测？不然“再往下揣测”一语中的“再”字又作何解释？可如果前者真的也是一种揣测，那这篇题为《鸦声的诠释》的文章中就什么也没有诠释，因为接下来读者读到的内容全是揣测。以揣测为背景再往下揣测当然不难，可揣出的结果多半会不着边际。

   果不其然，《诠释》接着就揣测说爱伦·坡写《渡鸦》（即《乌鸦》）“并非要刻意创造什么诗意，并非预先拟订过什么提纲，”而且说他是“不经意地给读者遗下了这美轮美奂的绝唱”。姑不究《诠释》作者何以能从《渡鸦》（《乌鸦》）一诗中获得“美哉轮焉，美哉奂焉”的感觉，笔者在此只想说《诠释》的这种揣测不仅毫无根据，而且与事实恰好相反。因为爱伦·坡在其《创作哲学》(The Philosophy of Composition)一文中明白无误地宣称，《乌鸦》这篇作品是用解决数学问题所需的精确性和严密推理一步步完成的 (……that the work proceeded，step by step，to its completion with the precision and rigid consequence of a mathematical problem)。

   《创作哲学》实际上是爱伦·坡就《乌鸦》一诗的创作谈。他在这篇文章中告诉读者，在动笔写《乌鸦》之前，他对该诗的主题、效果、篇幅、格律、情调、情节乃至艺术振奋点（artistic piquancy）都进行了精心的设计。为了让该诗最富有诗意，他定下了“美女之夭亡加失美之哀伤”这一主题；基于他“美是效果而非品质”的理论，他决心要让该诗达到使人“灵魂激动”的效果；为了保证这种效果的统一性（即要让读者能一口气读完），他决定只写一百行左右（最后写成一百零八行）；为了让“美之极致使敏感的灵魂怆然涕下”，他选择了最适合诗的悲郁情调；为了格律的独创性，他配置了一种前人未曾尝试过的诗节；为了诗中有艺术振奋点，他煞费苦心地设计了一个其字眼不变但其含意却不断变化的叠句——永不复焉（Nevermore，《诠释》译作“再也不会”），而他决定让这个叠句出自乌鸦之口而不是鹦鹉之口也费了一番心思，最后用乌鸦取代鹦鹉是因为前者更能与悲郁的情调保持一致；为了让乌鸦与痛失佳人的青年之碰面富有戏剧性，他更是殚精竭虑地设计了全诗情节甚至细节。而且最令《诠释》作者揣测不到的是，他首先写出的并不是该诗第一小节，而是该诗的第十六小节，目的是为了先确定全诗的高潮。

   由于没揣测出诗人的创作意图，《诠释》一文对该诗内容的揣测也是隔靴搔痒，画脂镂冰，有时简直就是在瞎猜。譬如在爱伦·坡的心目中，诗中青年之所以明知答复是意料中的“永不复焉”还继续向乌鸦提问，其原因是“人性中对自我折磨的渴望和一定程度上的盲目恐惧对他的驱使”，可《诠释》却把这原因猜成“‘再也不会’的回答正是他所渴望的”。再譬如爱伦·坡说“这种明知故问可能会使那青年感到悲哀的美妙之处”，而《诠释》的揣测却是“不管怎么说，它还是给愁苦中的他带来了欢乐。”至于《诠释》中所言的“另有新欢”或“圆‘梁祝’梦”之类，相信认真读过Raven一诗的读者都会感到不知所云。

   最有意思的是，《鸦声的诠释》当然是要诠释鸦声，可《诠释》写到结尾也没对鸦声进行诠释。不过该文倒是对渡鸦（乌鸦）本身有个说法，说它是“突至的无常”，是“魔鬼的化身”。这当然又是《诠释》的悬揣臆测，因为爱伦·坡在其《创作哲学》中明确地告诉读者，他那只乌鸦（渡鸦）象征“绵绵而无绝期的伤逝”（emblematical of Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance）。至于鸦声的含意，爱伦·坡说它包含着“人们所能想象的极度的悲哀和绝望”(the utmost conceivable amount of sorrow and despair)。

   虽说“诗无达诂”，但诠释经典名作还是应该有所借鉴。即便是推陈出新，也该让人知道推掉的是否真是陈腐之见。《乌鸦》问世一百五十年来，国外对其诠释注解的文献可谓汗牛充栋，《诠释》一文的作者本应探赜索隐，钩深致远，而不该凭空揣测，穿凿附会。若像这样把揣测当成诠释，那“鸦声”永远都只会是聒耳的鸦声，而不可能具有任何真正的象征意义。

（原载《名作欣赏》2002年第2期）作者：曹明伦
 

The Raven

by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!