阿特伍德作品

◎董继平 译

草 莓

当我最初想起草莓， 它们并非红色， 而是蓝色， 是那种在电线的白热部分前面的蓝色闪光， 太阳在波浪尖上的闪耀。 正是热量使得事物变成那样， 愤怒， 我走进荒芜的果园， 因为我不想对你说话， 甚至不想看到你， 相反， 我想干一些我所擅长的有用的小事。

这是六月， 蚊虫滋生， 当我把高高的梗茎推到一边， 我就惊起了蚊虫， 但我毫不在乎， 我有避开蚊虫的能力， 所有的肾上腺素会赶走它们， 如果赶不走， 我就把心情集中于较小的划伤上面。 我再也不会那样生气。 我几乎错过了它。

我要说， 我透过一片红色的烟霾看见了万物， 这不是真的。一切都不朦胧。 万物都很清晰， 比平常要清晰， 我那染过指甲的手， 透过苹果树枝落到地面上的阳光， 每一片叶子， 每一朵五瓣黄心的花， 还有圆锥形、 长满细毛、 暗红色的多籽矮浆果， 在干燥的平地上展现出两维细节， 犹如在发明照相机之前， 一个维多利亚时代的更疯狂的画家画出的背景上的叶簇。 在那个时辰的某些时候，尽管不是整个时辰， 我忘记了事物的称呼， 却看见它们是什么。

STRAWBERRIES

The strawberries when I first remember them are not red but blue， that blue flare， before the white hot part of the wire， sun glancing from the points of waves. It was the heat that made things blue like that， rage， I went into the waste orchard because I did not want to talk to you or even see you， I wanted instead to do something small and useful that I was good at. It was June， there were mosquitoes， I stirred them up as I pushed aside the higher stems， but I didn’t care， I was immune， all that adrenalin kept them away， and if not I was in the mood for minor lacerations. I don’t get angry like that anymore. I almost miss it.

I’d like to say I saw everything through a haze of red; which is not true. Nothing was hazy. Everything was very clear， clearer than usual， my hands with the stained nails， the sunlight falling on the ground through the apple-tree branches， each leaf， each white five petalled yellow centred flower and conical fine-haired dark red multiseeded dwarf berry rendering itself in dry flat two dimensional detail，like background foliage by one of the crazier Victorian painters， just before the invention of the camera; and at some time during that hour， though not for the whole hour， I forgot what things were called and saw instead what they are.

胜利滑稽娱乐剧场①

我去过胜利滑稽娱乐剧场两次， 或许只有一次， 另一次是我的一位朋友去了告诉我的。 两次我都喜欢。 人们认为年轻女人去那样的地方相当大胆， 可我们觉得那样的地方很有趣， 几乎就像教堂一样有趣。

你观赏到了一场单口喜剧， 一场电影， 一个唱歌或杂耍盘子的人， 还有脱衣舞表演。 他们使用了很多彩色照明， 红、 蓝、紫。 每个女孩都有假名： 塔克小姐、 毕哈维小姐、 勒鲁火焰。 因为那些名字和服装独出心裁， 我喜欢它们， 我还喜欢技巧更为娴熟的女孩， 那些能快速旋转流苏或让腹部和臀部旋转成圆圈的女孩。 那是在她们不得不脱下一切物之前， 脱衣有一种艺术， 几乎就像杂耍盘子。 我喜欢她们在一汪汪彩色光芒中漂浮的方式， 她们移动， 仿佛在游动， 玻璃后面的美人鱼。

一个女人背对观众开始表演， 聚光灯落在她的身上。 她戴着白色长手套， 穿着黑色晚礼服， 当她展开双臂， 那薄纱的黑袖子看起来就像薄膜状的翅膀。 她用手臂和后背做了很多姿势， 然而， 当她最终转过身来， 她年老色衰。 她的脸用脂粉涂抹得死一般苍白， 她的嘴涂抹着略带红色的鲜紫色， 但她年老色衰。 我能感到耻辱穿过我而涌流， 这不再有趣， 我不想这个女人脱掉她的衣服， 我不想看。 我感到是我而不是舞台上的那个女人， 正在被暴露、 被羞辱。 他们肯定会讥笑她， 对她大叫什么， 他们肯定会感到自己被欺骗了。

那个女人拉开黑色晚礼服的拉链， 将其滑下， 开始移动臀部。她用她那张脸的白色面具和她那紫色的嘴唇微笑， 她的双唇里面牙齿闪烁， 枯燥的白色鹅卵石， 这是一种嘲笑， 她并没打算嘲笑， 她知道， 这是另一种诡计， 但我们不知道是谁在玩弄。 这种诡计就是突然没有诡计： 那上面的躯体是真实的， 它在衰老， 它并没漂浮在远离我们的某处的聚光灯里， 它就像我们一样卡在时间之中。

胜利滑稽娱乐剧场死了。 没有人发出声音。

①加拿大多伦多市区早年的脱衣舞剧场， 现已不存。

THE VICTORY BURLESK

I went to the Victory Burlesk twice， or maybe it was only once and one of my friends went the other time and told me about it. I enjoyed it both times. It was considered quite daring for young women to go to such a place， and we thought it was funny; it was almost as funny as church.

You got a stand-up comic， a movie and a man who sang or juggled plates， as well as the strip-tease act. They used a lot of coloured lighting， red and blue and purple. Each girl had a fake name: Miss Take， Miss Behave， Flame Le Rew. I liked the names and the costumes， for their ingenuity， and I liked the more skillful girls， the ones who could twirl tassels or make their bellies or buttocks rotate in a circle. That was before they had to take it all off， there was an art to it， it was almost like the plate juggling. I liked the way they floated in the pools of coloured light， moving as if they were swimming， mermaids behind glass.

One woman began with her back to the audience， the spotlight on her. She was wearing long white gloves and a black evening gown with gauzy black sleeves that looked like membranous wings as she stretched out her arms. She did a lot with her arms and back; but when she finally turned around， she was old. Her face was powdered dead white， her mouth was a bright reddish purple， but she was old. I could feel shame washing through me， it was no longer funny，I didn't want this woman to take off her clothes， I didn’t want to look. I felt that I， not the woman on the stage， was being exposed and humiliated. Surely they would jeer and yell things at her， surely they would feel they had been tricked.

The woman unzipped her black evening gown， slipping it down， and began to move her hips. She smiled with her white mask of a face and her purple mouth， inside her lips her teeth glinted，dull white pebbles， it was a mockery， she didn’t intend it， she knew it， it was a trick of another kind but we didn’t know who was playing it. The trick was that suddenly there was no trick: the body up there was actual， it was aging， it was not floating in the spotlight somewhere apart from us， like us it was caught in time.

The Victory Burlesk went dead. Nobody made a sound.