一把耶魯偷來(lái)的椅子

作為耶魯大學(xué)法學(xué)院的一名畢業(yè)生，我卻知法犯法，“偷”了母校的一把椅子，而且一用就是十幾年。我的理智一次次告訴我應(yīng)該物歸原主，但我的感情卻一次次陷我于“不義”，讓我違背原則、割舍不下、糾結(jié)不已……

After 20 years， it’s time to come clean2). As I write these words， I’m sitting on a chair stolen from Yale.

I didn’t steal it—at least not at first. The chair came with the apartment that I rented as a second-year law student in the fall of 1990. Left by some Yalie who lived there before me， it’s a sturdy3) piece with a hardwood frame， a dark leather (or leather-like) seat， and a firm back secured by twin rows of brass tacks4).

The Law School dining hall had chairs that were similar enough to rouse my suspicions. But when I ventured over to Commons5) for lunch one day， any doubt was erased: I saw hundreds of exact replicas of “my” chair. It was definitely stolen property.

Being short of cash and needing a solid desk chair， I decided to use it just for the year. And while the chair had seen better days6)—the wood was scuffed7)， the seat had started to peel and crinkle—I found it was perfectly designed for long hours of study. It invited good posture when I was fresh and was stable enough to handle slouching8) and crossed-leg hunching9) when I grew tired. I liked the chair so much that I broke my silent pledge to bring it back to campus at the end of the year. Instead， I took it with me to my new apartment. When I leave New Haven， I thought to myself. That’s when I’ll return it.

But by the time graduation rolled around in May 1992， I felt too attached to the chair to let it go. After all， I’d largely earned my JD10) sitting on it. So I loaded it into a small U-Haul and drove off to my new job in Washington， D.C. I used the chair at my home desk in Washington for 14 years， and when I moved to New York City in 2006， I again took it along.

The irony of all this hasn’t escaped me: I’m a Yale law graduate breaking the law. At least， I think I’m breaking it. The truth is， I’m not really sure what the law of Connecticut says about possession of stolen property (which should only reinforce my alma mater11)’s reputation for teaching Big Ideas， not black-letter rules12)). Of course， there’s the old chestnut13) that possession is nine-tenths of the law14). But my gut15) tells me that this isn’t really my chair.

So why have I kept it so long? Initially， I guess， the chair somehow connected me to the things I missed about Yale—Friday afternoon football games with my classmates， late nights at Yorkside Pizza， doughnuts at the Doodle16). Over the years， though， my stolen chair has accreted17) much greater meaning， and the truth is that today， parting with it would be very difficult. The chair has literally supported me for my entire writing career—a career that began during law school， when I realized I wasn’t a lawyer at heart18).

I was sitting on this chair while I wrote my first short story， my first screenplay， and my first chapters of a novel; while I read my first rejection letters; and， perhaps most important， while I struggled to finish my first book. Fittingly， that book was， in large part， about Yale—the story of how my classmates took the U.S. government to court to free innocent refugees held at Guantánamo19) in the early 1990s. Part of my challenge was to recreate the atmosphere of the Law School—and sitting every day on the same chair I’d used back then surely must have helped me.

Today， my old Yale chair is in bad shape. The legs are splintered20) and the varnish21) is wearing away. The seat upholstery22) is shredded， and I’ve covered the loose spring coils with a couple of cloth napkins from IKEA. Friends say it looks like something I retrieved from a dumpster23). But when I sit down to work each day， I don’t see an object for the trash heap. I see an old friend， a constant companion that has been with me through the ups and downs of what is a terribly solitary profession.

As part of a recent Law School fund-raising campaign， I pledged an amount that I thought would cover several new chairs. Even so， for the punishment to fit the crime， I guess I should donate a few copies of each book I write to the Yale library.

And maybe one day， many years from now， I could get the chair properly fixed up， carve “Brandt Goldstein” in some hidden place， and drop it off in the Law School library. It would be nice to have my name on a chair at Yale.

20年過去了，是時(shí)候把真相和盤托出了。寫這句話的時(shí)候，我正坐在一把從耶魯大學(xué)偷來(lái)的椅子上。

椅子并不是我偷的——至少一開始不是這樣。1990年秋天我在耶魯法學(xué)院讀二年級(jí)的時(shí)候，租了一間公寓，租來(lái)時(shí)這把椅子就在那間公寓里。它是在我之前住在那兒的耶魯學(xué)生留下來(lái)的。椅子很結(jié)實(shí)，硬木框架，黑色真皮(或是仿真皮)椅座，堅(jiān)固的靠背還釘了兩排黃銅平頭釘加固。

法學(xué)院食堂的椅子與這把十分相像，這足以讓我懷疑這把椅子的來(lái)歷。但是，當(dāng)我有一天跑到耶魯?shù)墓彩程贸晕顼埖臅r(shí)候，我的所有疑問都有了答案：我看到幾百把和“我的”椅子一模一樣的椅子。毫無(wú)疑問，這東西就是偷來(lái)的了。

由于當(dāng)時(shí)手頭緊，又正需要一把結(jié)實(shí)耐用的書桌椅，于是我決定自己留著用，就用這一年。這把椅子早已“風(fēng)光不再”，木框架已經(jīng)磨損，椅座也開始脫皮起皺，但我發(fā)現(xiàn)它的設(shè)計(jì)非常適合長(zhǎng)時(shí)間學(xué)習(xí)。在我精神飽滿時(shí)，它能讓我保持優(yōu)雅的坐姿；在我感到疲倦時(shí)，它也足夠堅(jiān)固，大可以讓我耷拉著腦袋懶洋洋地靠著，或是盤腿蜷縮起來(lái)。我曾經(jīng)暗自許諾要在這一年結(jié)束時(shí)把椅子還給學(xué)校，可是我太喜歡它了，于是沒有兌現(xiàn)諾言。相反，我把它帶到了我的新公寓。我心里盤算著，等離開紐黑文(注：耶魯大學(xué)所在地)時(shí)，我就把它歸還回去。

可是到了1992年5月臨近畢業(yè)的時(shí)候，我又感覺自己太留戀這把椅子了，實(shí)在是割舍不下。畢竟，我攻讀法學(xué)博士的大部分時(shí)光都是在它上面度過的。于是，我把它裝進(jìn)一輛從U-Haul汽車租賃公司租來(lái)的小卡車上，然后駕車前往華盛頓特區(qū)——我的新工作單位所在地。在華盛頓特區(qū)，我把這把椅子放在了家中的書桌旁，一用就用了14年。2006年，我搬往紐約的時(shí)候，我再一次把它帶在了身邊。

我深知這一切所蘊(yùn)含的諷刺意味：身為一名耶魯法學(xué)院的畢業(yè)生，我卻知法犯法。至少，我覺得自己是犯了法。事實(shí)上，我并不十分清楚康涅狄格州的法律對(duì)占有被盜財(cái)產(chǎn)有什么規(guī)定(這也更好地詮釋出我母校的在外聲名，那就是只傳授“重要理念”，不講授既定的“法律條文”)。當(dāng)然，古諺有云：現(xiàn)實(shí)占有，敗一勝九?？墒俏业膬?nèi)心明白，這的確不是我的椅子。

那我為什么把它保留了這么久呢？最初，我想，是因?yàn)檫@把椅子能多多少少讓我回想起耶魯生活中那些讓我懷念的往事：星期五下午與同學(xué)一起參加的橄欖球賽，約克賽德比薩店的深夜，還有涂鴉大會(huì)上的甜甜圈。但隨著一年年過去，我這把偷來(lái)的椅子所附著的意義卻與日俱增，事實(shí)上，現(xiàn)在我與它已經(jīng)難舍難分了。在我的整個(gè)寫作生涯里，這把椅子一直名副其實(shí)地支撐著我。我的寫作生涯始于法學(xué)院其間，那時(shí)我就認(rèn)識(shí)到自己實(shí)際上不是當(dāng)律師的料。

我坐在這把椅子上完成了自己的第一則短篇小說、第一個(gè)電影劇本和第一部長(zhǎng)篇小說的前幾個(gè)章節(jié)；我坐在這把椅子上，品讀了最初的幾封退稿信；而也許最為重要的是，我坐在這把椅子上艱難地寫完了自己的第一本書。相稱的是，這本書大部分內(nèi)容都與耶魯有關(guān)，講述的是在20世紀(jì)90年代初我的同學(xué)們?nèi)绾螌⒚绹?guó)政府訴諸法庭，從而使關(guān)押在關(guān)塔那摩的無(wú)辜難民得以釋放的故事。在寫作的過程中，我遇到的一大挑戰(zhàn)就是重現(xiàn)法學(xué)院的氛圍，而每天都坐在我上大學(xué)時(shí)曾坐過的那把椅子上，這對(duì)我的寫作無(wú)疑頗有助益。

如今，我這把老舊的耶魯椅狀況很糟糕：椅子腿裂了，油漆的光澤已漸漸褪去，椅座外飾碎成一片一片的，彈簧圈也松弛了，我用從宜家買來(lái)的幾塊餐布把它們蓋了起來(lái)。朋友們說，它看上去真像是從大垃圾桶里撿回來(lái)的?？擅刻飚?dāng)我坐下來(lái)工作的時(shí)候，我所看到的可不是什么垃圾廢品，而是一位老朋友，一位陪我在極其孤獨(dú)的職業(yè)生活中起起伏伏的忠實(shí)伴侶。

法學(xué)院最近開展了一項(xiàng)募資活動(dòng)，我承諾捐一筆錢，我想這筆錢夠買好幾把新椅子了。即便如此，按照罰罪相當(dāng)?shù)脑瓌t，我估計(jì)我還得把自己寫的每一本書都捐幾本給耶魯圖書館才行。

也許許多年后的某一天，我會(huì)找人把這把椅子修理妥當(dāng)，再在某個(gè)隱蔽的地方刻上我的名字“勃蘭特·戈?duì)柎奶埂?，然后放進(jìn)法學(xué)院的圖書館。把我的名字留在耶魯?shù)囊巫由希@應(yīng)該是件不錯(cuò)的事情。

1.Brandt Goldstein：勃蘭特·戈?duì)柎奶梗绹?guó)作家，紐約大學(xué)法學(xué)院訪問教授，曾為《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》、《華盛頓郵報(bào)》、《華爾街日?qǐng)?bào)》等撰稿，著有紀(jì)實(shí)文學(xué)作品《法庭風(fēng)暴》(Storming the Court)，目前該書已有中譯本。

2.come clean：全盤招供

3.sturdy [#712;st#604;#720;(r)di] adj. 堅(jiān)固的，耐用的

4.tack [taelig;k] n. 大頭釘，平頭釘

5.Commons：耶魯大學(xué)的公共食堂，是耶魯大學(xué)最早的食堂。

6.have seen better days：狀況不如以前好，昔盛今衰

7.scuff [sk#652;f] vt. 使磨損

8.slouch [sla#650;t#643;] vi. 無(wú)精打采地坐

9.hunch [h#652;nt#643;] vi. 蜷縮

10.JD：法學(xué)博士，全稱為Juris Doctor，是美國(guó)含金量很高的法學(xué)學(xué)位，需要擁有學(xué)士學(xué)位的學(xué)生才能申請(qǐng)，學(xué)制一般為三年。

11.alma mater：母校

12.black-letter rule：某一領(lǐng)域里不容置疑的基本標(biāo)準(zhǔn)或規(guī)則

13.chestnut [#712;t#643;esn#652;t] n. 陳腐的笑話

14.Possession is nine-tenths of the law：現(xiàn)實(shí)占有，敗一勝九。意思是說，在證據(jù)不足時(shí)，現(xiàn)實(shí)占有某物的人通常被推為該物所有者，在訴訟中占上風(fēng)。

15.gut [ɡ#652;t] n. 內(nèi)心的感覺

16.doodle [#712;du#720;d(#601;)l] n. 涂鴉

17.accrete [#601;#712;kri#720;t] vt. 使依附，使增長(zhǎng)

18.at heart：本質(zhì)上，實(shí)際上

19.Guantánamo：關(guān)塔那摩，古巴東南部的一個(gè)城市，因位于該城市南邊關(guān)塔那摩灣的美國(guó)拘留營(yíng)而知名。1903年，該城市南端的關(guān)塔那摩灣一部分被美國(guó)占有，建立了美國(guó)的海軍訓(xùn)練基地。20世紀(jì)后期，該基地主要用于拘留從公海上攔截的古巴和海地難民。2002年，該基地建起了關(guān)塔那摩監(jiān)獄，以關(guān)押基地組織和塔利班的嫌疑犯。

20.splinter [#712;spl#618;nt#601;(r)] vt. 使破碎

21.varnish [#712;vɑ#720;n#618;#643;] n. 清漆，光澤的表面

22.upholstery [#652;p#712;h#601;#650;lst#601;ri] n. 裝飾，裝潢

23.dumpster [#712;d#652;mpst#601;(r)] n. 〈美〉大垃圾桶。該詞來(lái)自一個(gè)名為“Dumpster”的公司品牌，該公司的主要業(yè)務(wù)是制造用于裝載、運(yùn)輸與傾倒垃圾的容器。