Moving 搬家記

沙博理 任東升 焦琳

A young woman we knew， who had learned American brashness by spending her teenage years in New York， called to see me. The first time I met her， in 1949， she got us both into hot water， herself literally and me figuratively. I was home alone one afternoon when a stunning Chinese girl came breezing in， introduced herself as a friend of a friend， and said she had heard we had a bathtub—then a relative rarity in Beijing. This was true enough， since we were still living in a foreign-style house in the old College of Chinese Studies compound. If I didnt mind， she added pleasantly， she would take a bath， and strolled off before I could close my gaping mouth.

Ten minutes later， Phoenix came home and headed straight for the bathroom. Twenty seconds later， she marched up and confronted me.

“Who is that woman？”

“I never saw her before in my life—”

“Hah！”

I was pure as the driven snow， but it wasnt until the lady herself emerged， pink and fragrant from her bath and explained who she was， that the suspicious look faded somewhat from Phoenixs eyes.

Now， in 1957， this high-voltage beauty was amazing us again. She was planning to move， she said. Good housing was still pretty scarce， but somehow she had got on to not one house， but two. She asked whether we would be willing to take one of them off her hands. Since the place she offered was more conveniently located to both Phoenixs office and mine， besides being larger， brighter， and with more rooms than where we were living， we quickly agreed. Rent was not much. All premises where 15 rooms or more were let for profit had been taken over by the city. You paid your rent directly to the municipal authorities， who gave a fixed share to the former owner over a period of years until the value of his equity was paid off.

Moving was no problem. We had beds， a sofa， two wicker chairs， woven mat rugs， pots and pans， iron heating stoves—very modest. At the same time we had a good foreign-made radio bought from a departing Westerner， bureaus and clothes hampers （traditional Chinese homes have no closets）， and several antique tables and mahogany bookcases. These last I had bought for a pittance1 in second-hand shops when the wealthy of the old regime were retrenching and flooding the market with beautiful hardwood furniture.

Our main item of kitchen equipment was the stove—a cylinder of sheet iron about three feet high， lined with thin firebrick and cooking with coalballs. We were not encumbered by a refrigerator， since Chinese families buy only whatever perishables they eat that day. In the 1950s home furnishings of foreigners were a mixture of local and imported products.

It didnt take us long to move. My Office sent a small truck and a couple of strong young men， and we finished the job in two trips.

Our new quarters were in another hollow square compound. It must have been very old. On either side of the front gate was a square stone about two feet high. These were mounting blocks， for getting on your horse， or into a sedan chair.2 The compound was a yard3 lower than the lane outside， always a sign of age in Beijing， for the dust of centuries， swept out of the courtyards daily， piled up and raised the level of the earthen streets.

Full of large trees and flowering shrubs， it was very pleasant. We were in the outermost courtyard， in a one-storey structure built in a straight row which used to be the servants quarters. The only trouble was that our rooms were paved with large stone flaggings laid directly on the earth. In the damp of spring and early summer our floors and walls sopped up moisture like a sponge， and we all developed aches in our joints. But houses were hard to come by， and we stuck it out4 for several years until we found our present place， which has wooden floors a yard above the ground.

Our neighbors—three families living in the handsome inner courtyard—were all connected with civil aviation. The main and best building， facing south， housed our landlord. He had been a manager in the KMTs China National Aviation Company （CNAC）. When the old regime collapsed， along with other officials he had been pressured onto a ship heading for Taiwan. As they were leaving the harbor， he jumped overboard and swam ashore. The Peoples Republic gave him a position in the new airline at a high salary. He owned quite a bit of real estate in Beijing， of which the compound we lived in was part. With him was his wife， a sharp efficient woman disliked5 by the poorer people in our lane for her arrogant manner.

The family in the east wing consisted of a young aeronautical engineer， kept on when the CNAC was taken over， his wife and two kids. Except for a tiny fraction of fervid counter-revolutionaries and crooks， everyone working in the numerous Kuomintang government offices and agencies had been retained when the Communists came to power. The wife was a typical middle-class housewife， rather beefy， and always expensively dressed.

In the west wing lived a bachelor， at least for the moment. A lean good-looking fellow who had been married and divorced， he lived alone，6 when not being solaced by a young woman who wore high heels and form-fitting gowns. He had a good radio-phonograph combination， a stack of American dance records， and a well-equipped bar. I dropped in for a drink occasionally， and he told me his story.

He had been a commercial airline pilot under the Kuomintang， and had just finished a flight to Hong Kong when Chiang Kai-shek fled the mainland. The Communists broadcast a statement that they would welcome all returning airline personnel and would pay bonuses for planes brought back， the price ranging with the size of the plane. He had no illusions about the Kuomintang—“a pack of turds，” he called them—and had no desire to spend his days in Taiwan. Besides， the bonus offered was substantial. He drove down to the airport， said he had to test his plane， took off and flew to Shanghai. Not only was he paid for the plane—in gold—but he also was given a job as a flight instructor with a very good salary in Beijing.

He should have been happy， but he wasnt. He had nothing against the new administration—he could see how much better off people were. But it wasnt the kind of life he was used to. He had no interest in the political study going on. His smartly cut clothes were conspicuous among his casually dressed colleagues. It was hard to rustle up a card game or throw a big party. People were busy. They didnt care much about such things any more. He had his girl friend， of course. No one seemed to mind that they were living together. People only smiled and asked when he was planning to get married. Even his money didnt give him any special status. He could buy expensive canned goods with it， but who wanted food in cans when fresh meat and vegetables were plentiful and cheap？

He was pretty frustrated， but there wasnt anything I could do to help him. It was just part of a process all bourgeois-minded people， including myself， were going through. You had to decide. No one was opposed to fun and games， as such. The Chinese enjoyed their amusements as much as anybody. But it was a question of values， of emphasis. To what did you devote your main energies？ What was your primary interest in life？ Your personal comfort？ Your immediate family？ Or did you raise your sights and work for your local community， your national community， the world community？ True， you could keep your nose clean， go through the motions on your job， say what you felt was expected of you and， on your own time， indulge in all the material pleasures and comforts you wished. You could live that way， no one would stop you， as long as it didnt infringe on the rights of others. Yet， unless you had the hide of a rhinoceros， you couldnt help feeling that most people—your colleagues， your friends， your children—watched you sadly.

That was what was disturbing our pilot. What was the good of a little ostentation if no one envied you， or—even worse—thought you vulgar？ The braggart， the show-off was like a fish out of water in the new society. Our pilot was a dying breed. Yet even he might change. Id seen it happen in worse cases. They suddenly realized that “Serve the people” was the only creed that brought any lasting satisfaction.

Or so I viewed the situation in China in 1957.

我們認(rèn)識的一位年輕女子打電話說要來看看我，她十幾歲時(shí)在紐約待過幾年，沾上了美國人莽撞的習(xí)氣。第一次見她是在1949年，一個(gè)熱水澡把我倆臊了一回：她是真洗了一個(gè)澡，我是惹了一身騷。有天下午就我一人在家，一個(gè)容貌迷人的中國姑娘像陣清風(fēng)旋進(jìn)了門，她自稱是某位朋友的朋友，聽說我們家有個(gè)浴缸——當(dāng)時(shí)的北京，浴缸還是稀罕物。家里確實(shí)有，因?yàn)槲覀冏〉氖窃热A文學(xué)院大院里的洋房。她甜甜地說，如果我不介意的話，她想洗個(gè)澡。我目瞪口呆還沒緩過神，她就款步姍姍進(jìn)去了。

10分鐘后，鳳子回家了，還直奔浴室。20秒后，她大步流星過來質(zhì)問我：

“那個(gè)女的是誰？”

“我以前可從沒見過……”

“哼！”

我是純潔如雪啊，直到那個(gè)女子帶著浴后的滿臉紅潤和一身芬香出來講明她是何許人，鳳子眼神里的懷疑才消失了些。

眼跟前，1957年，這位活力四射的美人要再讓我們吃上一驚。她說，她打算搬家。好的住處仍然很稀缺，但她居然弄到兩處，問我們想不想接過一處。因?yàn)樗峁┑姆孔与x鳳子和我的單位都近便，況且比我們現(xiàn)在住的寬敞、亮堂，房間也多，所以我們馬上就同意了。房租不高。有15個(gè)或更多房間出租的宅院全部由市政府接管。租金直接交給政府部門，政府每次分給前房主固定數(shù)額的一筆錢，直到幾年后付清其房價(jià)總值為止。

搬家不是難事。我們有床、一張沙發(fā)、兩把藤椅、織墊、地毯、鍋碗瓢盆、取暖鐵爐——很簡單。此外，還有從要回國的西方人手里買的一臺不錯(cuò)的外國收音機(jī)，衣柜、洗衣筐（傳統(tǒng)的中國住房沒有壁櫥），以及幾張古式桌子和幾個(gè)紅木書架。最后那幾樣是舊社會的富人為縮減開支在市場大量賤賣漂亮硬木家具時(shí)我從二手店低價(jià)淘來的。

廚房的主要物件是爐子，一個(gè)近一米高的圓鐵皮筒，內(nèi)襯薄耐火磚，燒煤球做飯。倒是沒有冰箱拖累，因?yàn)橹袊彝ギ?dāng)天就買當(dāng)天吃的。20世紀(jì)50年代那會兒，在北京的外國人家中，陳設(shè)既有中國貨也有進(jìn)口貨。

搬家沒花太長時(shí)間。單位派來一輛小卡車和兩三個(gè)身強(qiáng)力壯的小伙子，我們兩趟就搞定了。

新的住處也在四合院里。院子一定是有些年代了。大門兩側(cè)各有一塊半米多高的方石，是上馬或上轎子用的墊腳石。院落比外面的胡同低出快一米，這在北京一向是年代久遠(yuǎn)的標(biāo)志，因?yàn)閹装倌陙砻刻鞆脑豪飹叱鰜淼膲m土堆積起來，土街就一層層抬高了。

院里到處可見參天大樹和開花的灌木，環(huán)境宜人。我們住在外院的一排平房里，過去是仆人的住處。唯一苦惱的是屋里的地面直接用大塊石板鋪成，在潮濕的春天和初夏，地面和墻面受了潮好像海綿吸了水，弄得我們都出現(xiàn)了關(guān)節(jié)痛。但房子很難找，我們將就了好幾年，直到找到現(xiàn)在這個(gè)住處，有木地板且高出地面快一米。

我們的鄰居有三家人，住在漂亮的內(nèi)院，而且都在民航部門上班。最好的房子是正房，坐北朝南，房東住著，國民政府時(shí)期他曾任中國航空公司的經(jīng)理。舊政權(quán)垮臺那會兒，他迫于壓力和其他官員一道登上一艘開往臺灣的船。就在船駛離港口時(shí)，他跳船游回了岸上。新中國給他在新航空公司安排了一個(gè)高薪職位。他在北京擁有相當(dāng)多的房產(chǎn)，我們住的四合院就是其中一部分。他老婆和他住一塊兒，精明干練，有股傲慢勁兒，不招胡同里的窮鄰居待見。

東廂房一家是年輕的航空工程師跟他老婆和兩個(gè)孩子，他在中國航空公司被接管后得以留用。除了一小撮激進(jìn)的反革命分子和壞分子，其他在國民政府部門和機(jī)構(gòu)工作的人在共產(chǎn)黨掌權(quán)后都被繼續(xù)留用。他老婆是典型的中產(chǎn)階級家庭主婦，身材碩壯，穿著一直挺闊氣。

西廂房住的是個(gè)單身漢，至少當(dāng)時(shí)是單身。他身形清瘦，長相英俊，結(jié)過婚又離了，一人獨(dú)居。有個(gè)穿高跟鞋和緊身旗袍的年輕女人不時(shí)來找他玩。他有一臺很好的收音電唱兩用機(jī)、一摞美國舞曲唱片，還有一個(gè)配備齊全的酒柜。我偶爾去喝一杯，他就把他的事講給我聽。

他曾是國民政府時(shí)期一家商業(yè)航空公司的飛行員，蔣介石逃離大陸時(shí)他執(zhí)飛的航班剛剛抵達(dá)香港。中共廣播了一份聲明，表示歡迎所有返回大陸的航空人員，駕機(jī)回來的還會給予獎(jiǎng)賞，金額視機(jī)型大小而定。他對國民黨不抱任何幻想，稱其為“一堆爛渣”，也不想去臺灣生活。再說，共產(chǎn)黨提供的獎(jiǎng)賞相當(dāng)豐厚。于是，他驅(qū)車到機(jī)場，說他得測試飛機(jī)，起飛后直奔上海。他不僅因這架飛機(jī)獲得報(bào)償——給的可是黃金吶，而且還得到一份在北京當(dāng)飛行教練的高薪工作。

他本該感到開心，可他沒有。他對新政權(quán)并沒有異議，他能看到人們的生活改善了很多，但這并不是他所習(xí)慣的那種生活。他對眼下的政治學(xué)習(xí)不感興趣，他那剪裁講究的衣服在穿著隨意的同事當(dāng)中很扎眼。想湊個(gè)牌局或辦場大型派對很難。大家都忙，不再把這類娛樂放在心上。當(dāng)然，他有女朋友，他們同居似乎也沒有人在意。大家只是微笑著問他打算什么時(shí)候結(jié)婚。他那么有錢都沒顯出他有多么尊貴。他倒是買得起昂貴的罐頭食品，但有豐富實(shí)惠的新鮮肉類和蔬菜，誰還瞧得上罐裝食品呢？

他就很沮喪， 但我也幫不上什么忙。這只是所有有世俗思想的人正在經(jīng)歷的一個(gè)階段，我也算一個(gè)吧。你必須做出決定。像這樣，找找樂、打打牌誰也不反對。中國人跟任何人一樣都喜歡娛樂，但這是價(jià)值觀或者說側(cè)重點(diǎn)的問題。你把主要精力用在什么地方？生活中你最關(guān)心什么？個(gè)人安適？直系親屬？或者，你是否提高了境界，為周圍人、為國家、為全人類而工作？的確，你可以不惹是非，把工作對付過去，說些別人想聽的話，業(yè)余時(shí)間則耽于想要的物質(zhì)享受和安逸。你可以這樣生活，只要不侵犯別人的權(quán)利，沒人會阻止你。然而，除非你的臉皮像犀牛皮那么厚，否則你會禁不住感到大多數(shù)人——你的同事、朋友、孩子——都傷心地看著你吶。

讓咱們這位飛行員煩心的就是這個(gè)。如果誰也不羨慕你，甚或更糟，都覺得你俗不可耐，那么自己顯擺一番有什么用呢？愛吹牛、愛炫耀的人在新社會就像離水之魚般不自在。我們這位飛行員屬于正在消失的一類人。但即便他這樣的人也可以改變，我見過情況更糟糕的人也改變了。他們突然間意識到，“為人民服務(wù)”才是帶來持久滿足感的唯一信條。

我眼中1957年的中國，情況就大概如此吧。

【譯析】

翻譯家沙博理在其自傳《我的中國》（My China： The Metamorphosis of a Country and a Man， 1997）中，記述了自己1957年的一次搬家經(jīng)歷。文中出現(xiàn)了多個(gè)人物，“我”、鳳子、介紹房子的年輕女子和新家大院里的三戶人家，個(gè)個(gè)栩栩如生，躍然紙上，頗有老舍筆下小羊圈胡同里的人間煙火氣。同時(shí)，沙博理的文風(fēng)自然詼諧，措辭口語化，文字中蘊(yùn)含的情感細(xì)膩，潤物細(xì)無聲。要在譯文中生動(dòng)再現(xiàn)這些人物形象及情感態(tài)度，實(shí)為不易。

【例1】

原：She got us both into hot water， herself literally and me figuratively.

譯：一個(gè)熱水澡把我倆臊了一回：她是真洗了一個(gè)澡，我是惹了一身騷。

析：“臊”和“騷”都是方言，用法靈活，蘊(yùn)含的語義、情感都更為豐富，傳神地表現(xiàn)出“我”的羞窘尷尬。譯者還巧妙轉(zhuǎn)換了原文的雙關(guān)修辭，保留了hot water的意象，更為難得的是“臊”“騷”和“澡”實(shí)現(xiàn)了押韻，神氣不失的同時(shí)音韻和諧，朗朗上口。

【例2】

原：I was home alone one afternoon when a stunning Chinese girl came breezing in… strolled off before I could close my gaping mouth.

譯：有天下午就我一人在家，一個(gè)容貌迷人的中國姑娘像陣清風(fēng)旋進(jìn)了門……我目瞪口呆還沒緩過神，她就款步姍姍進(jìn)去了。

析：“旋”字極具生命力，表現(xiàn)出姑娘的動(dòng)作輕盈靈巧，將strolled譯為“款步姍姍”，不僅能傳達(dá)出姑娘閑庭信步、毫不見外的神態(tài)，又多了一分步態(tài)的婀娜美感。同樣鮮活的還有鳳子，譯文簡明卻細(xì)膩，捕捉住鳳子話語中流轉(zhuǎn)的情緒情感，將鳳子表現(xiàn)得率直而生氣勃勃。

【例3】

原：“Who is that woman？”

“I never saw her before in my life —”

“Hah！”

譯：“那個(gè)女的是誰？”

“我以前可從沒見過……”

“哼！”

析：看到woman一般反應(yīng)都是“女人”，但譯者此處譯為“女的”有更進(jìn)一步的情感考量，因其更為口語化，帶著一股反感和不屑的情緒，更為真實(shí)地再現(xiàn)了鳳子盛怒之下的質(zhì)問。同樣，在翻譯I never saw的時(shí)候添加程度副詞“可”，就寫活了丈夫被誤解、質(zhì)問后急于解釋澄清的形象，還能讀出些許“信誓旦旦”的意味。英文中的hah也轉(zhuǎn)換為漢語習(xí)慣的“哼”。女性的一聲“哼”往往據(jù)語調(diào)語氣不同有千般未盡之意，此處除氣憤外還能讀出些許“暫且信你，過后再和你算賬”的潛臺詞，將鳳子的口吻、情緒、心理把握得十分到位。

【例4】

原：He drove down to the airport， said he had to test his plane， took off and flew to Shanghai.

譯：于是，他驅(qū)車到機(jī)場，說他得測試飛機(jī)，起飛后直奔上海。

析：前兩個(gè)小句都是行動(dòng)的前奏，暗中計(jì)劃，步步鋪墊，而所有克制的、不動(dòng)聲色的情感都隨飛機(jī)起飛一涌而出，“直奔”一詞就能體現(xiàn)出飛行員的歸心似箭，增添了一分時(shí)局動(dòng)蕩的緊張情緒。若簡單譯為“飛往上海”則不疼不癢，于情感和形象方面都是一大缺失。

【例5】

原：Even his money didnt give him any special status. He could buy expensive canned goods with it， but who wanted food in cans when fresh meat and vegetables were plentiful and cheap？

譯：他那么有錢都沒顯出他有多么尊貴。他倒是買得起昂貴的罐頭食品，但有豐富實(shí)惠的新鮮肉類和蔬菜，誰還瞧得上罐裝食品呢？

析：朗讀原文時(shí)重音會放在even和could上，說明原文正是通過這兩個(gè)詞傳達(dá)語氣和情感。而譯文則轉(zhuǎn)換添加了程度副詞“那么”“都”及表讓步的副詞“倒是”，以退為進(jìn)，加強(qiáng)語氣，凸顯和后句的反差，強(qiáng)調(diào)金錢同生活的幸福感、滿足感甚至社會地位之間都不能畫等號，表達(dá)出積極正面的情感態(tài)度。? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?□

（作譯者單位：中國海洋大學(xué)）