一个干净明亮的地方
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place

【导读】

短篇小说《一个干净明亮的地方》是海明威的早期作品，是一部典型的虚无主义小说，具有典型的海明威风格：文章以虚无思想为主题并大量使用简洁句。这篇小说所描述的是一位老人和两位侍者的故事，其中老人这一人物形象看似微不足道，但从他自杀和饮酒的两个选择行为来分析，他是个展现了重压之下的优雅风度和精神不败的尊严感的海明威式主人公。两位侍者之间的对话引出了“虚无”这一主题，表明“虚无是对存在的体验，人类只有在内心保持一片干净明亮的地方才能抵御虚无。”

【作者简介】

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欧内斯特?米勒尔?海明威 （Ernest Miller Hemingway，1899.7.21－1961.7.2），美国小说家。海明威出生于美国伊利诺伊州芝加哥市郊区的奥克帕克，晚年在爱达荷州凯彻姆的家中自杀身亡。海明威代表作有《老人与海》、《太阳照样升起》、《永别了，武器》、《丧钟为谁而鸣》等，凭借《老人与海》获得1953年普利策奖及1954年诺贝尔文学奖。海明威被誉为美利坚民族的精神丰碑，并且是“新闻体”小说的创始人，他的笔锋一向以“文坛硬汉”著称。海明威的写作风格以简洁著称，对美国文学及20世纪文学的发展有极深远的影响。

【选段】

此处选取的是这一短篇的开头部分，小说中的三个人物悉数登场，两位侍者的对话会让读者对三个人物各自的性格有一个直观的了解。

It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.

“Last week he tried to commit suicide,” one waiter said.

“Why?”

“He was in despair.”

“What about?”

“Nothing.”

“How do you know it was nothing?”

“He has plenty of money.”

They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.

“The guard will pick him up,” one waiter said.

“What does it matter if he gets what he’s after?”

“He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago.”

The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.

“What do you want?”

The old man looked at him. “Another brandy,” he said.

“You’ll be drunk,” the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.

“He’ll stay all night,” he said to his colleague. “I’m sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o’clock. He should have killed himself last week.”

The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched out to the old man’s table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.

“You should have killed yourself last week,” he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. “A little more,” he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. “Thank you,” the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.

“He’s drunk now,” he said.

“He’s drunk every night.”

“What did he want to kill himself for?”

“How should I know.”

“How did he do it?”

“He hung himself with a rope.”

“Who cut him down?”

“His niece.”

“Why did they do it?”

“Fear for his soul.”

“How much money has he got?” “He’s got plenty.”

“He must be eighty years old.”

“Anyway I should say he was eighty.”

“I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o’clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?”

“He stays up because he likes it.”

“He’s lonely. I’m not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me.”

“He had a wife once too.”

“A wife would be no good to him now.”

“You can’t tell. He might be better with a wife.”

“His niece looks after him. You said she cut him down.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing.”

“Not always. This old man is clean. He drinks without spilling. Even now, drunk. Look at him.”

“I don’t want to look at him. I wish he would go home. He has no regard for those who must work.”

The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.

“Another brandy,” he said, pointing to his glass. The waiter who was in a hurry came over.

“Finished,” he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreigners. “No more tonight. Close now.”

“Another,” said the old man.

“No. Finished.” The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.

The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip. The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity.

时间很晚了，大家都离开餐馆，只有一个老人还坐在树叶挡住灯光的阴影里。白天里，街上尽是尘埃，到得晚上，露水压住了尘埃。这个老人喜欢坐得很晚，因为他是个聋子，现在是夜里，十分寂静，他感觉得到跟白天的不同。呆在餐馆里的两个侍者知道这老人有点儿醉了，他虽然是个好主顾，可是，他们知道，如果他喝得太醉了，他会不付账就走，所以他们一直在留神他。

“上个星期他想自杀，”一个侍者说。

“为什么？”

“他绝望啦。”

“干吗绝望？”

“没事儿。”

“你怎么知道是没事儿？”

“他有很多钱。”

他们一起坐在紧靠着餐馆大门墙边的桌旁，眼睛望着平台，那儿的桌子全都空无一人，只有那个老人坐在随风轻轻飘拂的树叶的阴影里。有个少女和一个大兵走过大街。街灯照在他那领章的铜号码上。那个少女没戴帽子，在他身旁匆匆走着。

“警卫队会把他逮走，”一个侍者说。

“如果他到手了他要找的东西，那又有什么关系呢？”

“他这会儿还是从街上溜走为好。警卫队会找他麻烦，他们五分钟前才经过这里。”

那老人坐在阴影里，用杯子敲敲茶托。那个年纪比较轻的侍者上他那儿去。

“你要什么？”

老人朝他看了看。“再来杯白兰地，”他说。

“你会喝醉的，”侍者说。老人朝他看了一看。侍者走开了。

“他会通宵呆在这里，”他对他的同事说。“我这会儿真想睡。我从来没有在三点钟以前睡觉过。他应该在上星期就自杀了。”

侍者从餐馆里的柜台上拿了一瓶白兰地和另一个茶托，大步走了出来，送到老人桌上。他放下茶托，把杯子倒满了白兰地。

“你应该在上星期就自杀了，”他对那个聋子说。老人把手指一晃。“再加一点，”他说。侍者又往杯子里倒酒，酒溢了出来，顺着高脚杯的脚流进了一叠茶托的第一只茶托。“谢谢你，”老人说。侍者把酒瓶拿回到餐馆去。他又同他的同事坐在桌旁。

“他这会儿喝醉了，”他说。

“他每天晚上都喝醉。”

“他干吗要自杀呀？”

“我怎么知道。”

“他上次是怎样自杀的？”

“他用绳子上吊。”

“谁把他放下来的？”

“他侄女。”

“干吗要把他放下来？”

“为他的灵魂担忧。”

“他有多少钱？”

“他有很多钱。”

“他准有八十岁喽。”

“不管怎样，我算准他有八十岁。”

“我真希望他回家去。我从来没有在三点钟以前睡觉过。那是个什么样的睡觉时间呀？”

“他因为不喜欢睡觉所以才不睡觉。”

“他孤孤单单。我可不孤单。我有个老婆在床上等着我呢。”

“他从前也有过老婆。”

“这会儿有老婆对他可没好处。”

“话可不能这么说。他有老婆也许会好些。”

“他侄女会照料他。”

“我知道。你刚才说是她把他放下来的。”

“我才不要活得那么老。老人邋里邋遢。”

“不一定都是这样。这个老人干干净净。他喝啤酒来并不滴滴答答往外漏。哪怕这会儿喝醉了。你瞧他。”

“我才不想瞧他。我希望他回家去。他并不关心那些非干活不可的人。”

那老人从酒杯上抬起头来望望广场，又望望那两个侍者。

“再来杯白兰地，”他指着杯子说。那个着急的侍者跑了过去。

“没啦，”他不顾什么句法地说，蠢汉在对醉汉或外国人说话时就这么说法。“今晚上没啦。打烊啦。”

“再来一杯，”那老人说。

“不，没啦，”侍者一边拿块毛巾揩揩桌沿，一边摇摇头。

老人站了起来，慢慢地数着茶托，打口袋里摸出一只装硬币的起夹子来，付了酒账，又放下半个比塞塔作小账。

那个侍者瞅着他顺着大街走去，这个年纪很大的人走起路来，虽然脚步不挺稳，却很有神气。