There Are No Fat People in Paris 巴黎没有胖子

2014-04-09Ta-NehisiCoates

新东方英语 2014年4期

Ta-Nehisi+Coates

Two Saturdays ago， I visited the venerable1） bookstore Shakespeare and Company2）. It was a hot day. The store was small and stifling3）. A woman walked around handing out watermelon. I picked up a copy of Eric Hobsbawm4）s The Age of Revolution and Primo Levi5）s If This Is a Man. I went upstairs， sat in a room with view of the street and I think even the river. Two things happened while I sat there. First， I fell in love with Primo Levi， an unoriginal event which nevertheless deserves （and shall receive） elaboration6）. Second， I decided that this room was perfect.

Paris requires effort. There are stairs everywhere and the stairs are all but mandatory. In America the stairs are off to the side， and the elevator is prominent. Often， its the reverse here—the stairs are out front and often beautifully wrought. It almost feels sinful to take an elevator. Theres a strong culture of pedestrianism. The streets belong to the people， and that encourages walking. On a normal day， I can end up walking for an hour or more. Theres so much to see. And those who dont walk use the public bike share.

There is almost no air conditioning—not in the homes， not in the offices， not on 99 percent of the subway trains. The windows are actually open on the subways. Theres no ice in the water or in any of the drinks and I dont ask for any. Travel isnt colonization. I think that discomfort is life unbound. But because of that discomfort， that constant sheen7） of sweat， finding a naturally cool place is a divine experience. That day when I stumbled into Shakespeare and Companys reading room， it was like stumbling into an undiscovered oasis8）， like finding lost treasure.

Despite all the extra effort， I find that I consume less energy. I dont know that I eat any “healthier” in the sense of what “health” tends to mean back home. There are fat and carbs9） all around me. Theres butter in most of the dishes. Its nothing see a Parisian walking the street while inhaling10） a long baguette. Bread is served with every meal， but oddly enough， without butter， which leads me to believe that they think of butter as something to be put in things， not on them.

I eat my fries with mayonnaise11）. I now find ketchup12） to be too sweet. Without exception I eat dessert—preferably something with chocolate. I eat a panini13） or a sandwich every day， but I dont eat any chips. You can find junk-food here， but you have to be looking for it. I dont really order out. Ive stopped drinking Diet Coke. In general I eat a lot less， and I drink a lot more—a half a bottle of wine every night. But I dont think Ive been drunk once since Ive been here. I feel a lot better—more energy， lighter on my feet， a clearer head.

Before I came here， so many people told me， “There are no fat people in Paris.” But I think this misses something more telling. There are “no” stunningly athletic people either. There just doesnt seem to be much gusto14） for spending two hours in the gym here. The people dont seem very prone to our extremes. And they are not， to my eyes， particularly thin. They look like how I remember people looking in 1983. I suspect they look this way because of some things that strike me—the constant movement， the diet， the natural discomfort—are part of their culture.

I dont know how much of this I can take back home with me. My sense is that I am reacting to my context. I am conflicted about all of this. In many ways， America feels like a much “freer” place. Theres more choice， and a strong desire to deliver that choice at the lowest cost possible. Theres no sense in France that “the customer is always right.” This city is very old—Pont Neuf15） is older than America itself. The Merovingian Clovis16） who reigned 1500 years ago is buried just outside the city. My home of New York is one of the oldest cities in America， but by the ancient standards of Paris， it is still a baby.

With that age comes a great dose of tradition， and a sense of the conservative. Things are done at a certain way. You dont just roll up on someone and say “Excusez-moi17）...” and then proceed into your query. You had better start with a “Bonjour” or a “Bonsoir.” The specifics of their language means much more to them than it means to us. I think actually all of this suits me better. I love old things， and I loved old Europe before I ever bore witness18）. I wanted to study Charlemagne19） in high school. I didnt really know how. And I am terrorized by choice back home—by the take-out menus， the calorie counts， the organic， the local， the low-fat. By the end of the day， my brain is mush. I cant regulate.

We talk about culture as a way of establishing hierarchies—as though a hammer could， somehow， be innately better than a hacksaw20）. I believe that cultures take shape for actual reasons， responding to real environments. If Americans love choice， if we love our air-conditioning， and our ice， if we love our comforts， and our elevators， the question should not be， “How do we change？” for that too is a kind of colonization. Better to ask “Why do we love those things？ How do they profit us？ What do we stand to lose21） should we abandon them？”

I love the tradition of low architecture here. But I also wonder how that tradition affects the cost of living for actual people. And so this is the other thing about culture. It tends to be an interlocking network， a machine of related gears， pulleys and levers. The thing you find so valuable may well be related to something else which you find utterly objectionable.

There is surely some knowledge to be taken back home. But in thinking about myself and my country， and “cultural” change， I find that I am more reformist than revolutionary. We are who we are. Our unchanging acre is forever our own.

上上个周六，我造访了仰慕已久的莎士比亚书店。那天天气很热。书店不大，里面有些闷。一位女士在店里四处走动，给大家分发西瓜。我挑了艾瑞克·霍布斯鲍姆的《革命的年代》和普里莫·莱维的《如果这是一个人》。我走到楼上，在一个房间里坐了下来，从这里能看到街景，我觉得甚至还能眺望到河景（译注：此处应指书店旁边的塞纳河）。我坐在那儿的时候，发生了两件事。第一，我爱上了普里莫·莱维，虽然这不算稀奇，却无论如何也值得（而且将会得到）一番详述。第二，我觉得这个房间堪称完美。

生活在巴黎颇为消耗体力。到处都要爬楼梯，而且除了楼梯之外，几乎没有别的选择。在美国，楼梯都修在侧面，电梯才是主角。这里的情形却常常相反——楼梯修在正前面，而且大多建得很漂亮。搭电梯让人简直有负罪感。这里的步行文化氛围浓郁。街道上满是行人，鼓励着你也加入其中。平日里，我每天要走一个小时或更长时间的路。沿途值得驻足观看的东西太多了。不步行的人们会使用公共自行车。

这里几乎看不到空调——住宅里没有，办公室里没有，99%的地铁车厢里也没有。事实上，地铁里的窗户都是敞开的。水或其他任何饮料里都没有冰块，我也不刻意要求加冰。旅行并不是要把所到之处变成自己的“殖民地”。我把这种不舒适的感觉看做是不受束缚的人生体验。不过，正是因为这种不舒适的感觉，因为经常汗水淋淋的缘故，才能够在找到一处自然阴凉的地方时，越发觉得心旷神怡。当我那天逛到了莎士比亚书店的阅读室，就仿佛是无意间闯入了一片未被发现的绿洲，寻找到了失落已久的宝藏。

虽然体力消耗增多了，我发现自己摄入的能量却变少了。依照美国所谓的“健康”标准，我似乎也并没有吃得“更健康”些。脂肪和碳水化合物随处可见。大部分的食物里都有黄油。巴黎人一边在街上走一边大嚼法棍的场景毫不稀奇。每顿饭都有面包，十分奇怪的是，却不搭配黄油，这让我觉得他们认为黄油是要放在食物里面，而不是涂在食物外面的。

我蘸着蛋黄酱吃薯条。我现在觉得调味番茄酱太甜了。毫不例外，我也吃甜点——最好是带巧克力的那种。我每天都吃帕尼尼或三明治，但是不配薯片。这里也有垃圾食品，不过要留心才找得到。我不太订外卖，也不再喝健怡可乐。总体而言，我吃得少了很多，喝得却多了不少——每晚都能喝掉半瓶红酒。但是从我到这儿开始，我觉得自己一次也没喝醉过。我觉得身体更胜从前——精力更旺盛，身体更轻盈，头脑也更清醒。

在我来这儿之前，很多人告诉我：“巴黎没有胖子。”但是我觉得这种说法忽略了一个更为明显的事实。这里也“没有”令人咋舌的运动型身材。在这里，人们对在健身房待上两个钟头似乎并无多大热情。人们似乎不倾向于我们那种极端的方式。而且在我眼中，他们也不算特别瘦。他们看起来和我所记得的1983年的人们身材差不多。我想他们之所以看起来是这个样子，是因为有些令我印象深刻的方面——频繁走动、饮食习惯、天然的不舒适感——已经成为他们文化的一部分。

如果回到美国，我不知道这些习惯我还能保持多少。我觉得我现在之所以能够这么做，只是对这样的环境做出的反应。这一切让我觉得很矛盾。在许多方面，美国看起来是个“更自由”的地方。那里有更多选择，人们强烈地想要以尽可能低的成本来满足对这些选择的需求。在法国，“顾客总是对的”这种说法站不住脚。这是一个非常古老的城市——新桥的历史比美国的历史还长。1500年前统治这里的墨洛温王朝的克洛维国王就葬在城外。我所居住的纽约已经是美国历史最悠久的城市了，但是依照巴黎的古老标准来衡量，它还是个婴儿。

伴随着如此悠久的历史而来的是一份厚重的传统以及对传统的守护意识。凡事的做法都有定例。你不能随便拉住一个陌生人，只说一句“不好意思，打搅一下……”，就冒冒失失地问东问西。你最好以“您好”或“晚上好”开始一段交谈。与我们相比，他们对于法语的细微之处更加小心在意。我觉得所有这一切其实都更适合我。我喜欢古老的事物，并且在真正看到古老的欧洲之前，就已经爱上了它。中学的时候，我就非常想研究查理大帝，只是不知从何入手。在美国的时候，我一想到要做选择就胆战心惊——各种外带食物菜单、卡路里计数、有机食物、本地种植、低脂食品。一天下来，真是耗尽脑力。我无法理出个头绪。

我们讨论文化的时候，把它当做是一种建立层级体系的方式——似乎一个锤子，不知为何，天生就是比锯子要高级。我认为文化的形成是有其切实原因的，并是对实际环境的反应。如果美国人喜欢选择，如果我们喜欢我们的空调和冰块，如果我们喜欢我们的舒适感以及电梯，那就不该问“我们怎样才能改变”，因为这个问题本身也有用别人的观念“殖民”我们自己文化的嫌疑。更应该问一问：“我们为什么喜欢这些东西？它们带给了我们什么好处？如果我们抛弃这些东西会有怎样的损失？”

我喜欢这里的建筑都盖得很低的传统。但我也很想知道，对于现在生活在其中的人们而言，这样的传统对他们的生活成本有什么样的影响。这就是关于文化的另外一点。它更像是一个互相紧密联结的网络，一架齿轮、滑轮和杠杆相互作用的机器。一件你觉得非常有价值的东西很有可能和一件你觉得非常反感的事情联系在一起。

肯定有一些知识值得带回美国去。但是想起我自己和我的祖国以及“文化上”的变化，我发现自己更倾向于做一个改革者，而不是革命者。我们就是我们现在的样子。我们不变的故土留给我们的是永恒的印记。

1. venerable [?ven?r?bl] adj. 令人崇敬的，值得敬重的

2. Shakespeare and Company：莎士比亚书店，位于巴黎塞纳河旁，是一家以出售英文书籍为主的独立书店。

3. stifling [?sta?fl??] adj. 令人窒息的，气闷的

4. Eric Hobsbawm：艾瑞克·霍布斯鲍姆（1917～2012），英国最具影响力的左派历史学家。他在劳工运动、农民运动和世界史范畴的研究中取得了卓越的成果，其代表作为三部曲《革命的年代》（The Age of Revolution）、《资本的年代》（The Age of Capital）、《帝国的年代》（The Age of Empire）。

5. Primo Levi：普里莫·莱维（1919～1987），犹太裔意大利作家与化学家，是纳粹大屠杀的幸存者，曾被捕并关押至奥斯维辛集中营，1945年才重获自由。其在1948年出版的处女作《如果这是一个人》（If This Is a Man）即记录了他在集中营中的生活。

6. elaboration [i?l?b??re??n] n. 详尽阐述

7. sheen [?i?n] n. 光辉；光泽

8. oasis [???e?s?s] n. （沙漠中的）绿洲

9. carb [kɑ?b] n. （carbohydrate的缩写）碳水化合物

10. inhale [?n?he?l] vt. 〈美口〉（急切或贪婪地）吃

11. mayonnaise [?me???ne?z] n. 蛋黄酱

12. ketchup [?ket??p] n. 调味番茄酱

13. panini [p??ni?ni] n. 帕尼尼，意大利的一种传统三明治

14. gusto [?ɡ?st??] n. 爱好，嗜好，趣味

15. Pont Neuf：新桥，巴黎塞纳河上最古老的桥

16. Merovingian Clovis：墨洛温王朝的克洛维国王。墨洛温王朝统治时期为公元5世纪至8世纪间。该王朝由克洛维国王（466～511）创立，克洛维国王被称为法兰克王国的奠基人。