自译 契诃夫短篇小说 A PINK STOCKING 傻太太

A DULL, rainy day. The sky is completely covered with heavy clouds, and there is no prospect of the rain ceasing. Outside sleet, puddles, and drenched jackdaws. Indoors it is half dark, and so cold that one wants the stove heated. 一个沉闷的雨天，浓云密布，阴雨连绵。雨里夹杂着雪花，留下了遍地的水坑，打湿了树上的寒鸦。屋里昏昏暗暗，冷得人直起疙瘩。 Pavel Petrovitch Somov is pacing up and down his study, grumbling at the weather. The tears of rain on the windows and the darkness of the room make him depressed. He is insufferably bored and has nothing to do.... The newspapers have not been brought yet; shooting is out of the question, and it is not nearly dinner-time.... 周文茂在书房里来回溜达，为天气发着牢骚，望着窗上的雨、阴沉的家，提不起一点兴致。他百无聊赖，巴不得有点事干……今儿的报纸还没送来，出去打猎也不是时候，这会儿又不到饭点……可干什么好呢？ Somov is not alone in his study. Madame Somov, a pretty little lady in a light blouse and pink stockings, is sitting at his writing table. She is eagerly scribbling a letter. Every time he passes her as he strides up and down, Ivan Petrovitch looks over her shoulder at what she is writing. He sees big sprawling letters, thin and narrow, with all sorts of tails and flourishes. There are numbers of blots, smears, and finger-marks. Madame Somov does not like ruled paper, and every line runs downhill with horrid wriggles as it reaches the margin.... 周太太也在书房。周太太长得娇小玲珑，穿着一件浅色衬衫，套着一双粉色长袜，在桌上兴致勃勃地写信。周先生溜达来溜达去，时不时过去瞅上两眼。纸上写满了大大小小、歪歪扭扭、潦潦草草的字迹，还沾上了形形色色的墨渍、油污和指印。周太太用不惯格子纸，每行都歪扭七八地写成了下坡，都快写到桌子上了。 “Lidotchka, who is it you are writing such a lot to?” Somov inquires, seeing that his wife is just beginning to scribble the sixth page. 周太太正写到第六页，周先生问道：“我说，给谁写信呢？” “To sister Varya.” “给我妹妹写呢。” “Hm... it’s a long letter! I’m so bored — let me read it!” “嚯，真能写！我瞧瞧呗？闲着也是闲着。” “Here, you may read it, but there’s nothing interesting in it.” “喏，看吧，也没写什么。” Somov takes the written pages and, still pacing up and down, begins reading. Lidotchka leans her elbows on the back of her chair and watches the expression of his face.... After the first page his face lengthens and an expression of something almost like panic comes into it.... At the third page Somov frowns and scratches the back of his head. At the fourth he pauses, looks with a scared face at his wife, and seems to ponder. After thinking a little, he takes up the letter again with a sigh.... His face betrays perplexity and even alarm... 周先生接过信来，边读边来回溜达。周太太斜倚着椅背，端详着丈夫的脸色。读完第一页，周先生拉长了脸，神情有些异样……看到第三页，周先生眉头紧锁，挠起了后脑勺。到了第四页，他放下信纸，错愕地看了周太太一眼，满脸的心事。愣了会儿神，他叹了声气又读上了，可脸上却带着些困惑，甚至有几分惊慌…… “Well, this is beyond anything!” he mutters, as he finishes reading the letter and flings the sheets on the table, “It’s positively incredible!” “不像话！”读完了信，他把信纸往桌上一拍，咬牙切齿道，“太不像话了！” “What’s the matter?” asks Lidotchka, flustered. “怎么了？”周太太连忙问道。 “What’s the matter! You’ve covered six pages, wasted a good two hours scribbling, and there’s nothing in it at all! If there were one tiny idea! One reads on and on, and one’s brain is as muddled as though one were deciphering the Chinese wriggles on tea chests! Ough!” “还怎么了？你说怎么了？合着你忙活两个钟头就写了六页废话啊！这不是废话是什么？我看了半天把我脑袋都看糊涂了！你写的是人话吗？啊？” “Yes, that’s true, Vanya, . . .” says Lidotchka, reddening. “I wrote it carelessly. . . .” “哎，文茂……”周太太脸红道，“我就随便写写嘛……” “Queer sort of carelessness! In a careless letter there is some meaning and style — there is sense in it —while yours... excuse me, but I don’t know what to call it! It’s absolute twaddle! There are words and sentences, but not the slightest sense in them. Your whole letter is exactly like the conversation of two boys: ‘We had pancakes to-day! And we had a soldier come to see us!’ You say the same thing over and over again! You drag it out, repeat yourself.... The wretched ideas dance about like devils: there’s no making out where anything begins, where anything ends.... How can you write like that?” “随便写写？你这不叫随便写，你这叫糟践纸！什么东西！东一句西一句，东一句西一句，翻来覆去，没头没尾的，流水账都不如。你说你写的这叫什么？” “If I had been writing carefully,” Lidotchka says in self defence, “then there would not have been mistakes. . . .” “我不就是没好好写嘛，真是，”周太太辩解道，“我要好好写肯定就没这么多错了……” “Oh, I’m not talking about mistakes! The awful grammatical howlers! There’s not a line that’s not a personal insult to grammar! No stops nor commas — and the spelling... brrr! ‘Earth’ has an a in it!! And the writing! It’s desperate! I’m not joking, Lida.... I’m surprised and appalled at your letter.... You mustn’t be angry, darling, but, really, I had no idea you were such a duffer at grammar.... And yet you belong to a cultivated, well-educated circle: you are the wife of a University man, and the daughter of a general! Tell me, did you ever go to school?” “你还好意思说！你看你这些错，啊！标点也不加，行也不会空，字也不会写……好家伙！土字有几个横你不知道吗！还有你这字！你能不能有个字样！你呀你呀……我是真没想到，你怎么这么没文化……说句不好听的，你要是懂文法天底下就没有文盲了……亏你还嫁了个大学教授，亏你爸还是个当干部的，你怎么就这点出息？你上过学吗？” “What next! I finished at the Von Mebke’s boarding school. . . .” “哎呀行了！我在慧文上的学……” Somov shrugs his shoulders and continues to pace up and down, sighing. Lidotchka, conscious of her ignorance and ashamed of it, sighs too and casts down her eyes.... Ten minutes pass in silence. 周先生摇摇头，又溜达上了，长吁短叹的。周太太也害臊了，耷拉着脑袋，止不住地叹气……十分钟过去，俩人愣是一句话都没说。 “You know, Lidotchka, it really is awful!” says Somov, suddenly halting in front of her and looking into her face with horror. “You are a mother... do you understand? A mother! How can you teach your children if you know nothing yourself? You have a good brain, but what’s the use of it if you have never mastered the very rudiments of knowledge? There — never mind about knowledge... the children will get that at school, but, you know, you are very shaky on the moral side too! You sometimes use such language that it makes my ears tingle!” “你像话吗！”周先生突然站到太太面前，心慌意乱地看着她，语重心长道，“都是当妈的人了，还这么一问三不知的，像个当妈的样吗？你这样怎么教育孩子？你脑筋再好使，啥都不懂也不行啊！得，学习你教不了就教不了吧，反正还有老师，可礼貌廉耻你总得懂吧！你有时候说的那些话我都没法听！” Somov shrugs his shoulders again, wraps himself in the folds of his dressing-gown and continues his pacing.... He feels vexed and injured, and at the same time sorry for Lidotchka, who does not protest, but merely blinks.... Both feel oppressed and miserable.... Absorbed in their woes, they do not notice how time is passing and the dinner hour is approaching. 周先生又摇了摇头，把睡袍一裹，还是溜达。他又难过，又上火，可又心疼他那逆来顺受、委屈巴巴的太太。夫妻俩一个比一个委屈，一个比一个难过，难过来难过去，转眼就快吃饭了。 Sitting down to dinner, Somov, who is fond of good eating and of eating in peace, drinks a large glass of vodka and begins talking about something else. Lidotchka listens and assents, but suddenly over the soup her eyes fill with tears and she begins whimpering. 离了书桌，上了饭桌。周先生嘴馋得很，生怕为闹别扭坏了胃口，便喝了杯酒，聊起别的事来。周太太心不在焉地搭着茬，忽然间眼眶一湿，泪如雨下。 “It’s all mother’s fault!” she says, wiping away her tears with her dinner napkin. “Everyone advised her to send me to the high school, and from the high school I should have been sure to go on to the University!” “都怪我妈！”周太太用餐巾抹着眼泪，埋怨道，“人家都叫她送我上高中，上完高中再念大学的！” “University... high school,” mutters Somov. “That’s running to extremes, my girl! What’s the good of being a blue stocking! A blue stocking is the very deuce! Neither man nor woman, but just something midway: neither one thing nor another. . . I hate blue stockings! I would never have married a learned woman...” “还上高中……念大学。”周先生嘀咕道，“我说你是要上天哪！你也想当什么女学究不成？我告诉你！女学究没一个好东西！不男不女的……我最腻味这路人！我就是死也不娶有文化的媳妇……” “There’s no making you out . . .,” says Lidotchka. “You are angry because I am not learned, and at the same time you hate learned women; you are annoyed because I have no ideas in my letter, and yet you yourself are opposed to my studying. . . .” “你看你……”周太太说道，“我没文化你生气，有文化你也生气。我不会写信你训我，我想学学你又不让……” “You do catch me up at a word, my dear,” yawns Somov, pouring out a second glass of vodka in his boredom. “你还真说着了。”周先生打了个哈欠，又倒了杯酒。 Under the influence of vodka and a good dinner, Somov grows more good-humoured, lively, and soft.... He watches his pretty wife making the salad with an anxious face and a rush of affection for her, of indulgence and forgiveness comes over him. 吃着饭，喝着酒，周先生的酒劲上来了，好脾气也上来了……看着自己如花似玉的妻子在厨房忙上忙下，一股怜爱之情油然而发。 “It was stupid of me to depress her, poor girl... ,” he thought. “Why did I say such a lot of dreadful things? She is silly, that’s true, uncivilized and narrow; but... there are two sides to the question, and audiatur et altera pars.... Perhaps people are perfectly right when they say that woman’s shallowness rests on her very vocation. Granted that it is her vocation to love her husband, to bear children, and to mix salad, what the devil does she want with learning? No, indeed!” “我也是，干嘛那么说她……”他反省道，“她是傻了点，但什么事总不能只看一面吧……不是都说吗，女的呀，天生就傻，要不怎么能心甘情愿地忙里忙外，相夫教子呢？还让她念书？念个屁书！” At that point he remembers that learned women are usually tedious, that they are exacting, strict, and unyielding; and, on the other hand, how easy it is to get on with silly Lidotchka, who never pokes her nose into anything, does not understand so much, and never obtrudes her criticism. There is peace and comfort with Lidotchka, and no risk of being interfered with. 周先生心想，那些念过书的女人无不是没劲透顶、斤斤计较、不依不饶、招惹不起的主，哪有自己太太这么好对付。她既不多管闲事，也不胡思乱想，更从来不指手画脚。跟她过日子舒坦极了，顺心顺意的。 “Confound them, those clever and learned women! It’s better and easier to live with simple ones,” he thinks, as he takes a plate of chicken from Lidotchka. “去她的吧！还是我的傻太太好。”周先生从太太手里接过一盘烧鸡，暗暗道。 He recollects that a civilized man sometimes feels a desire to talk and share his thoughts with a clever and well-educated woman. “What of it?” thinks Somov. “If I want to talk of intellectual subjects, I’ll go to Natalya Andreyevna... or to Marya Frantsovna.... It’s very simple! But no, I shan’t go. One can discuss intellectual subjects with men,” he finally decides. 可转念一想，自己这样博学多才的男人其实也挺想和知书达礼的女人谈谈心的。“哎，何必呢？”他想道，“想聊点深的找几个女教授不就结了，多大点事！”但又一琢磨，“嗐，拉倒吧，深刻的事跟男的说说就得了。”