半魅力人生

by Nathan Heller

Once， many moons ago， I spent a month in Iceland with too little money and nothing to slow a march of days that seemed already to be getting much too short. It was September， and each morning and late afternoon a wind would come through 1）Reykjavík to clear the air， 2）sifting and reshaping the clouds. By eight oclock， the sun would start to set， and little yellow lights would trace the 3）contours of the hills. I spent much of the month walking through unfamiliar neighborhoods， trying to imagine what it would be like to make a life in each. This wasnt an unusual pursuit， since at that time I was a stranger to adult life everywhere I went. I had come to Iceland on a small research stipend， after three months of failing to support myself in New York. Each morning， I would walk to a café that had become my office. In the evenings， I would wander to the waterfront or read by the big downtown pond. Weekend nights were different， because that was when the city came alive.

很多年前，我曾懷揣一丁點兒錢在冰島呆過一個月，對于眼前似乎已經(jīng)變得太過短暫的日子，我束手無策。當時正值九月，每天的清晨和晡時都會有一陣風掠過雷克雅未克，它清新了空氣，篩碎并重塑了云朵。到了八點，太陽開始下山，星星點點的黃色燈光會勾勒出山的輪廓。我將這個月的大半時間都用于穿行陌生的街區(qū)，努力想象如若在其中每一處展開生活會是何種景象。這并非什么與眾不同的追求，因為在當時，無論我去到哪里，都無法融入成年生活。在紐約呆了三個月，無法為生的我靠一小筆研究津貼來到冰島。每天清晨，我都會步行去一家被我當作辦公室的咖啡館。到了晚上，我會漫步去到海邊，或在市中心的大池塘邊閱讀。周末的夜晚則不盡相同，因為那時這座城市才活了過來。

Q： I went out last weekend and when I woke up the next morning my shoes were covered with mud. I dont remember visiting a farm while out on the town. Can anyone explain to me what happened？

A： It is still a mystery to many who live in Reykjavík who wake up with the same problem after hitting bars in this town. We cant really explain it but be aware that the bars are really crowded so its a given that a lot of people will step on your feet.

I had seen this item in Reykjavík 4）Mag， an English publication in the tourist office， and for several clean-shoed evenings after that it was a source of 5）poignant disappointment. Finally， I came back to the hostel one Saturday evening to find my room overtaken by three Swedes. The floor was strewn with empty half-litre cans of 6）Carlsberg； when they offered one to me， I asked what brought them to Iceland.

“We 7）slaughter sheep，” one said. “Up the coast.”

They were dressed in jeans and sported 8）closecropped blond hair. One of them had an elongated， toothy face， and went on， “We slaughter two thousand sheep every day， eighty thousand in the season. He cuts out the stomachs， and we put the carcasses in the freezer. Like an 9）assembly line.”

“You kind of need an iPod，” the third said.

Back in Sweden， the guys told me， they were studying computer science at university， and—well， you know how it is： one thing leads to another， and soon you find yourself carving sheep bellies for a little extra cash. Jobs were hard to come by in Sweden， but Iceland welcomed the help.

Slaughterhouse employees got free rooms and six meals a day. There was too much fish on the menu， maybe， but better that than the 10）remaindered meat from the smokehouses. Why was that？ I asked this in a conversation-making spirit， but my new acquaintances stared.

“Youve noticed there are not so many trees in Iceland？” one asked at last. “Yeah，” I said. “Well， what do you think they do all the smoking with？ Its a fifty-fifty mixture of—I dont know what the English word is. You dig it up…”

“Peat？” “Yeah， peat，” he said. “That and shit.”“Yeah—shit，” the long-faced one chimed in， his voice rising with indignation. “And， listen， I am Swedish. I dont eat meat that has been smoked in shit.”

Then the four of us fell silent. At some point， it had been decided， with the eloquent noncommunication of twentysomething males， that we would be going out together， and that this would make us， fleetingly， friends. My life at that time was full of passing relationships： people I only knew for days， or even hours， and who posed for 11）Polaroid-like snapshots in my memory. In the hallway of the hostel， we connected with two Swedish women. It was shortly after midnight. People in the streets swarmed toward one another on the downtown plazas. At a Sólon， we got drinks， and some of us began to dance.

The pulsing， muddy world the Swedes led me into quickly became mine. A week later， I was on my own at another club. It was 4 A.M. I was planning to leave. A woman approached and wondered whether I would dance. She was willowy. Her hair was dark， and her eyes were very blue. She had high cheekbones. You couldnt talk over the throbbing bass， and so we leaned 12）at intervals into each others ears. New York， I said. Originally， California. She smiled 13）wryly. Her hair fell forward and covered her ear； while I swept it back to add something， she kissed my neck. Her coat was trimmed with dark fur， which struck me as maybe the most elegant thing I had ever seen.

My sense of the scale of the world， and its speed， changed that night， and I carry the memory with me today the way some people carry 14）amulets： a reminder that there is always an Iceland to return to， a place where， in an unexplored city 15）in the wee hours just south of the Arctic Circle， strangers are dancing together and the seemingly impossible isnt. I was twenty-two， but I think of this as when my twenties actually began.

One day， finally， it is late， too late， and you are standing on the sidewalk outside somewhere very loud. A wind is blowing. Its the same cool， restless late-night breeze that blew on trampled nineteen-twenties lawns， dazed sixties streets， and anywhere young people gather. Nearby， someone who doesnt smoke is smoking. An attractive stranger with a laugh 16）jaywalks between cars with a friend. Youre far from home. Its quiet. All at once， you have a thrilling sense of nowness， of the sheer potential of a verdant night with all these unmet people in it. For a long time after that， you think youll never lose this life， those dreams. But that was， as we know， then.

問：上周末外出，我隔天清早醒來的時候，鞋子上敷滿了泥巴。我不記得到城里來的時候有去過農(nóng)場啊。有誰能跟我解釋下怎么回事嗎？

答：對于很多住在雷克雅未克的人來說，這仍是個謎。很多人在城里泡吧醒來之后會有同樣的疑問。我們無法完全解釋，但你要知道，那里的酒吧相當之擁擠，很多人有可能會踩到你的腳。

我在旅游局的英文出版物——《雷克雅未克雜志》上看到上面這一段兒，而此后好幾個夜晚我的鞋卻都挺干凈，這事兒挺讓人由衷失望的。終于，有個星期六的晚上，我回到旅社后發(fā)現(xiàn)房間被三個瑞典佬給占了。地板上到處都是嘉士伯半升裝的空啤酒罐兒；當他們請我喝一罐時，我問他們怎么會到冰島來。

“我們是宰羊的。”其中一個說，“北岸那邊?！?/p>

他們穿著牛仔褲，剪著一頭精神的金色短發(fā)。他們其中一個長臉、齙牙的接著說道：“我們一天宰兩千只羊，一個季度八萬只。他去掉內(nèi)臟，然后我倆把羊身放進冷庫。就像條流水線?！?/p>

“干這活兒得聽著iPod才行。”第三個人說道。

他們告訴我，之前他們在瑞典的大學里讀計算機科學，之后——好吧，你知道的，各種事情接踵而來，不久后你就發(fā)現(xiàn)自己正切割羊肚來貼補家用。瑞典工作不好找，但冰島歡迎并幫助他們就業(yè)。

屠宰場給員工提供免費住宿，一日六餐。也許菜單上魚太多了點，但那總比熏制室里的剩肉強多了。那是為什么？為了讓談話繼續(xù)下去我問了這么一句，但我剛認識的新伙計們瞪大了眼睛。

“你有注意到冰島上沒多少樹吧？”終于有人開口問道?！笆前。蔽覒??！澳敲矗阌X得他們用什么來生煙熏肉呢？他們用的是一種對半摻雜的混合物——我不知道那個在英文里叫什么。你把它挖出來……”

“泥炭？” “對了，泥炭?！彼f道?！澳嗵亢图S便參半?！薄皼]錯——糞便?！蹦莻€長臉的家伙操著他那帶著火氣的聲音插話進來?！斑€有，聽著，我是瑞典人，我可不吃用糞便熏過的肉?！?/p>

隨后我們四人都陷入沉默。不知是在什么時間，我們幾個二十來歲的男人在那意味深長的無聲交流之后達成共識，我們要一起外出閑逛，我們會就此成為朋友，短暫的朋友。那時我的生活里充斥著倏然即逝的情誼：有的人我只認識幾天，有的甚至只有幾個小時，他們就像是為我記憶里的寶麗萊快照擺了下姿勢。在旅社的大堂里，我們搭上兩個瑞典女人。午夜剛過，街上的人群一波接一波地在市中心的廣場上交叉著蜂擁而行。我們在一間“沙龍”里喝了酒，我們中的幾個人開始跳起舞來。

那幾個瑞典人把我?guī)氲哪莻€騷動、混亂的世界很快也成了我的世界。一周后，我獨自來到另一間俱樂部。凌晨四點時，我正打算離開，一個女人走上前來問我可否共舞。她身材苗條。一頭深色頭發(fā)，湛藍湛藍的眼睛，還有一副很高的顴骨。在悸動的貝斯聲中根本無法聽清對方說什么，所以我們時不時地湊到對方耳邊說話。紐約，我說。祖籍，加州。她報以苦笑。她的頭發(fā)向前垂下遮住了耳朵；當我將她的頭發(fā)撩回原位想再說點什么的時候，她吻了我的脖子。她的大衣裝點著深色皮草，我驚覺那也許是我見過的最雅致的東西。

我對這個世界的尺度和速度的看法在那一夜改變，如今我?guī)е嵌位貞浬?，就如同有些人佩戴護身符那般：它提醒我總有一個冰島可以讓我回去，在那里，在北極圈以南一座鮮有人知的城市的深夜，陌生的人們正一起跳舞，而看似不可能的事情也變得可能起來。當時我22歲，而我卻將那一夜視為我弱冠之年的真正開始。

終于，有一天，天很晚，太晚了，你正站在某處人行道上，旁邊是囂嚷的店家。一陣風吹起。它同樣是那股涼爽的、不安分的午夜晚風，曾輕撫過十九世紀二十年代被踐踏的草坪、六十年代迷宮樣令人暈眩的街道以及任何年輕人的聚集地。附近，有個不抽煙的人在抽煙。一個面帶笑容的靚麗陌生人正和一個朋友在車流中橫行。你離鄉(xiāng)背井。四周一片寂靜。突然，你體驗到一股令人毛骨悚然的現(xiàn)時感，因為你想到在這個你仍稚嫩的夜晚里，有那么多素未謀面的人，該有多少可能。此后很久，你以為你將永不會失去這種生活，那些夢想。但，正如我們所知，那已然成為往事。