主题:Andrew Marr:我们英国人——英国诗歌文学简史 -- 万年看客

本楼:阅 32497 复 129 🌺243 🌵0 最近: 复0 🌺 🌵0
2020-08-31 21:26:08万年看客
2 十六,针对大都市的反叛1

为什么二战没有像一战那样留下一代著名且重要的英国诗人呢?答案是显而易见的。首先,尽管英军在北非、意大利、远东以及欧陆战场上都经历了激烈的格斗战,但是能与1914-1918年期间相提并论的大规模两军对垒却再没发生过。二战当中的军事冲突更加零散,就某些方面来说烈度也更低。其次,尽管W.H.奥登及其追随者们——其中有些人此时已经跑到了美国——做出了极大努力,但是诗歌这一文学形式似乎就是不如爱德华时代那样重要了。二战期间问世的诗歌不得不与电影、小说、纪录片以及回忆录一起争夺受众的注意力。最后,战争的惨状描写一次也就够了,而且几乎所有英国人都认为反希特勒战争具有毋庸置疑的道义正确性,而对抗德皇的战争在道义上则要模糊得多。

尽管如此,1939-1945年还是留下了不少既有趣又值得记住的诗歌。我们首先注意到,创作这批诗歌的诗人往往来自远离牛剑-伦敦大都市核心区的地方,例如约克郡、苏格兰与威尔士。这一趋势将会持续到战争结束之后很久。似乎随着诗歌在英国文化当中的地位日益边缘化,被大都会精英们忽视的广大其他地区也获得了更宽松的创作空间。无论原因如何,这股潮流都不容错认。

最优秀的英国二战诗人是一位如今已经不太出名的亨利.里德。此人于1914年生于伯明翰,既认识W.H.奥登也认识路易斯.马克尼斯。他于1941年应征入伍,不过在战争期间的大部分时间里都在闷闷不乐地担任日语翻译。战后他成为了一名剧作家与播音员,最后于1986年逝世。所谓军旅生涯未必就一定意味着金戈铁马,也可能意味着日复一日地应付无聊与愚蠢。里德笔下最著名的作品都以基础军训为题材。下面这首《零件的名称》(Naming of Parts)以冷幽默的笔法描写了枪械使用培训的场景。诗句当中潜藏着针对传统权威的不耐烦。正是这种情绪将会在1945年将英国第一届社会主义政府推上台。

To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,

We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,

We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,

To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica

Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,

And to-day we have naming of parts.

今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。昨天,

我们学过了日常清洁枪械的方法。明天上午,

我们要学习射击之后的清洁方法。可今天,

今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。日本茶花

在周边花园里亮若珊瑚,

今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。

This is the lower sling swivel. And this

Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,

When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,

Which in your case you have not got. The branches

Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,

Which in our case we have not got.

这是背带下扣。这是

背带上扣,至于用途嘛,

等你们拿到背带就知道了。这是架枪扣,

你们目前还没发。枝条

在花园里保持着肃静动人的姿态,

你们目前还没发。

This is the safety-catch, which is always released

With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me

See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy

If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms

Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see

Any of them using their finger.

这是保险拴,打开保险栓的方式,

永远都是用拇指轻轻一弹。谁都别让我看见

用别的指头。开保险很容易,

只要大拇指略微有点儿劲。绽放的花朵,

脆弱且一动不动,别让任何人看见

有谁用别的指头。

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this

Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it

Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this

Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards

The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:

They call it easing the Spring.

你们看,这个是枪栓,它的用处

是拉开枪膛,你们看。我们可以快拉,

来来回回地拉,我们管这个

叫做松弹簧。早春的蜜蜂

飞快地来来回回,在鲜花从中乱冲乱撞,

他们管这个叫做松弹簧。

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy

If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,

And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,

Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom

Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,

For to-day we have naming of parts.

他们管这个叫做松弹簧:再容易不过,

只要你的大拇指有点儿劲,就跟枪栓、

后膛、撞针、准星一样,

这些我们都还没发;杏花

静静地盛开在周边花园里,蜜蜂来来回回,

今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。

里德并非一辈子只靠一首诗出名的诗人,但是他的其他诗歌传达的信息与这首诗太过相似,这里就不再多加介绍了。

基斯.道格拉斯出生在肯特的一户并不幸福的贫困家庭。他在战前创作的诗歌得到过T.S.艾略特的赏识。今天人们普遍认为他是英国最伟大的、曾经上过前线的二战诗人。他加入了北非的北安普敦郡义勇兵团,还亲身经历了阿拉曼战役。诺曼底登陆之后不久他牺牲在了战场上。有些人觉得他的诗文有些铁石心肠,但是这些文字自有一股单刀直入的气质以及直面战争毫无矫饰的态度。下面这首诗名叫《如何杀戮》(How to Kill),描写对象是手榴弹与狙击步枪——尽管道格拉斯本人是被德军迫击炮炸死的:

Under the parabola of a ball,

a child turning into a man,

I looked into the air too long.

The ball fell in my hand, it sang

in the closed fist: Open Open

Behold a gift designed to kill.

在皮球划出的抛物线下,

一个男孩长成了男人,

我打量天空太久了,

球落入我手,唱着歌

在紧攥的拳头里:打开打开

请看这旨在杀戮的礼物。

Now in my dial of glass appears

the soldier who is going to die.

He smiles, and moves about in ways

his mother knows, habits of his.

The wires touch his face: I cry

NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears

在我的玻璃刻度盘里出现了

那个即将死去的士兵。

他的微笑与举手投足

他的母亲都很熟悉,还有他的习惯。

铁丝网触碰了他的脸:我哭了

现在,死亡就像熟人一样听见

and look, has made a man of dust

of a man of flesh. This sorcery

I do. Being damned, I am amused

to see the centre of love diffused

and the wave of love travel into vacancy.

How easy it is to make a ghost.

并且注目观瞧,将血肉之人

化作尘土之人。这等妖法

由我施展。身负诅咒的我逗趣地

看到爱的中心扩散开来

爱的波浪在真空中传播。

制造鬼魂多么容易。

The weightless mosquito touches

her tiny shadow on the stone,

and with how like, how infinite

a lightness, man and shadow meet.

They fuse. A shadow is a man

when the mosquito death approaches.

全无重量的蚊子接触了

投在石头上的微小阴影,

多么相似,多么无穷

的轻盈,人与阴影相遇。

他们融合为一。阴影就是人

当蚊子的死亡接近时。

休.麦克迪尔米德掀起了苏格兰文艺复兴之后涌现出了许多苏格兰诗人,其中对于现代苏格兰文化影响最大的当属哈米什.亨德森。此人生在佩思郡的布莱尔高里,幼年时搬到了伦敦居住。他很早就参与了反纳粹抵抗活动,协助多名犹太人逃出了纳粹德国。他毕生都是左派,战争刚开始时还是个绥靖主义者。后来他成为了第五十一高地师的情报官以及第八军的发言人。《昔兰尼加的挽歌》(Elegies for the Dead in Cyrenaica)可以与基斯.道格拉斯的作品并称为最完整且最令人满意的二战期间英国战争诗歌。亨德森一方面抒发了他对于纳粹德国的蔑视,另一方面又表达了对于倒在中东沙漠里的普通德军士兵的同情。下面这段诗文节选的关键词“mak siccar”(不留后患)是当年罗伯特.布鲁斯的麾下将领之一大开杀戒之后的名言——此人朝一名垂死的敌人身上捅了最后一刀。

We'll mak siccar!

Against the bashing cudgel!

against the comtemptuous triumphs of the big battalions

mak siccar against the monkish adepts

of total war aginst the oppressed oppressors

mak siccar against the leaching lies

against the worked out systems of sick perversion

mak siccar

against the executioner

against the tyrannous myth and the real terror

mak siccar

我们将不留后患!

对抗猛挥的棍棒!

对抗大兵团的可鄙胜利

不留后患对抗僧侣一般的

全面战争的能手对抗遭到压制的压迫者

不留后患对抗水蛭般的谎言

对抗疾患变态的疲累体系

不留后患

对抗刽子手

对抗暴虐的传说与真正的恐怖

不留后患

可是士兵们又如何呢?

No blah about their sacrifice: rather tears or reviling

of the time that took them, than an insult so outrageous.

All barriers are down: in the criss-crossed enclosures

where most now lie assembled in their aching solitude

those others lie too – who were also the sacrificed

of history’s great rains, of the destructive transitions.

This one beach where high seas have disgorged them like flotsam

reveals in its nakedness their ultimate alliance.

没有关于他们牺牲的废话:宁可流泪或者抹黑

他们耗费的时间,也胜过如此骇人的侮辱。

一切障碍都被拆除:在纵横划分的阵地上

大多数人现在一起躺在他们那痛苦的孤寂当中

其他人也躺在了那里——他们也是牺牲者

为了历史的暴雨,为了毁灭的变身。

在这片海滩大海将他们像浮渣一样吐出

赤裸裸地揭露了他们最根本的结盟。

如果质问亨德森——日后他将会成为一名共产主义者——这一切杀戮的意义究竟是什么?他的回答是人道国际主义:

So the words that I have looked for and must go on looking for

Are words of whole love, which can slowly gain the power

To reconcile and heal. Other words would be pointless.

我曾经寻找并且必须继续寻找的词语

是完全之爱的词语,将会缓慢获得力量

去和解与愈合。其他词语毫无意义。

亨德森小时候在佩思郡见识过吉普赛人歌舞团的风采,因此从一开始他就具有强烈的民间传统意识。他对苏格兰文化的最大贡献其实还发生在二战结束之后。他带着一台简陋的录音机走遍了苏格兰各地,赶在许多民间歌谣与故事最终消失之前将其保留了下来。爱丁堡大学正是凭借他采集的这批语料才开设了苏格兰研究学院,苏格兰的民间音乐与歌谣创作也正因此才得以繁荣至今。亨德森本人也创作过歌谣,例如著名歌曲《D日逃兵之歌》(Song of the D-Day Dodgers)的问世也有他的一份功劳。第八军在意大利作战时,英国下院第一位女议员阿斯特夫人在一次演讲中暗示道,其他战区的士兵们其实是躲过了D日海滩的苦战。这番言论激怒了大批盟军士兵,《D日逃兵之歌》就是第八军宣泄怒火的产物。如果你想听一听二战期间英军士兵的心声,不妨从这首诗入手:

We're the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy

Always on the vino, always on the spree.

Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks

We live in Rome – among the Yanks.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.

我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。

葡萄酒不离口,永远笑嘻嘻。

第八军的二流子也有脸开坦克,

我们住在罗马——跟扬基佬唠嗑。

我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。

We landed at Salerno, a holiday with pay,

Jerry brought the band down to cheer us on our way

Showed us the sights and gave us tea,

We all sang songs, the beer was free.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.

我们权当休带薪假,登陆在萨勒诺,

德国鬼子的军乐队一路上多欢乐

给我们沏茶还带我们游玩,

我们比赛拉歌,啤酒都不要钱。

我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。

The Volturno and Cassino were taken in our stride.

We didn't have to fight there. We just went for the ride.

Anzio and Sangro were all forlorn.

We did not do a thing from dusk to dawn.

For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.

沃尔图诺与卡西诺我们随便就占领

我们根本不用打仗,就是随便看风景。

安齐奥与桑格罗都没人把守,

一天从早到晚我们啥事都没有。

我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。

On our way to Florence we had a lovely time.

We ran a bus to Rimini right through the Gothic Line.

On to Bologna we did go.

Then we went bathing in the Po.

For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.

我们向佛罗伦萨进军一路上好景色

穿过哥德防线去里米尼坐着公交车。

我们继续前进向博洛尼亚,

来到波河边,集体洗刷刷。

我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。

Once we had a blue light that we were going home

Back to dear old Blighty, never more to roam.

Then somebody said in France you'll fight.

We said never mind, we'll just sit tight,

The windy D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.

一盏蓝灯亮起回家时刻终来到,

回到亲爱不列颠不必再到处飘,

然后有人说我们要去法国作战,

我们说没必要,我们只想坐着看,

扯淡的D日逃兵,躲在明媚意大利。

Now Lady Astor, get a load of this.

Don't stand up on a platform and talk a load of piss.

You're the nation's sweetheart, the nation's pride

We think your mouth's too bloody wide.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, in Sunny Italy.

阿斯特夫人这番话请您牢记。

不要整天高谈阔论满嘴光放屁。

您是国家甜心,国家的骄傲

满嘴跑火车,我们觉着不能要

我们是D日逃兵,躲在明媚意大利。

When you look 'round the mountains, through the mud and rain

You'll find the crosses, some which bear no name.

Heartbreak, and toil and suffering gone

The boys beneath them slumber on

They were the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.

当你穿过泥浆大雨看到山的另一面,

满地十字架,有些连姓名都不见。

再也不必受苦费力与心碎,

地下的小伙子全都安然入睡。

他们曾是D日逃兵,将会留在意大利。

So listen all you people, over land and foam

Even though we've parted, our hearts are close to home.

When we return we hope you'll say

"You did your little bit, though far away

All of the D-Day Dodgers, way out there in Italy."

所以你们全都听好,无论陆地与海上

就算我们离开,心也还贴近家乡。

当我们回来希望你们这么说:

“尽管离家千里,他们尽到了职责,

全体D日逃兵,远远在意大利。”

这首诗脱胎于当时十分流行的军中歌曲——歌词的版本很多——最初的作者是78军坦克救助小队的代理中士哈利.潘恩。需要指出的是,阿斯特夫人并未在下院发言当中使用“D日逃兵”这个词,但是军人们对于自己的贡献遭到贬低的怨气却是实实在在的。亨德森是当时一大批英军官兵的代表,这些人一方面认为未来属于国际主义与天下大同的潮流,同时又认为眼下这场战争是值得一战的“正义战争”。亨德森性情过于叛逆自主,以至于无法成为一名合格的共产主义者。但是他笔下最著名的诗作确实采取了社会主义立场,为苏格兰帝国主义表示了歉疚。如今苏格兰议会召开时总会集体歌唱这首诗,几乎将其当成了苏格兰的第二国歌。诗歌名叫《自由降临所有人》(Freedom Come All-Ye)。仅仅看文字并不足以领略诗文的迫切张力,必须要搭配风笛乐曲《该死的弗兰德斯战场》唱出来才有滋味:

Roch the wind in the clear day’s dawin

Blaws the cloods heelster-gowdie ow’r the bay,

But there’s mair nor a roch wind blawin

Through the great glen o’ the warld the day.

It’s a thocht that will gar oor rottans

– A’ they rogues that gang gallus, fresh and gay –

Tak the road, and seek ither loanins

For their ill ploys, tae sport and play

烈风呼啸扫清了白日的黎明

吹散了海湾上空的层层积云

但是今天并非单纯的狂风大作,

从世界的伟大峡谷当中呼啸穿过。

这是一股思想,将会吓坏各种鼠辈,

还有平日里大摇大摆的各路匪类,

吓得他们赶紧跑路另寻栖身之地

从而继续去实施一肚子阴谋诡计。

Nae mair will the bonnie callants

Mairch tae war when oor braggarts crousely craw,

Nor wee weans frae pit-heid and clachan

Mourn the ships sailin’ doon the Broomielaw.

Broken faimlies in lands we’ve herriet,

Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair;

Black and white, ane til ither mairriet,

Mak the vile barracks o’ their maisters bare.

我们的小伙子们今后再也不必

上战场拼杀,为了吹鼓手们的利益。

来自矿坑与农舍的孩子再也不用哭泣

看着运兵船向克莱德河下游驶去

我们帮助镇压过的土地上的破碎家庭

再也无需诅咒苏格兰人的勇敢姓名。

黑人与白人,通过友谊与爱情,

定要掀翻奴隶主的肮脏军营。

So come all ye at hame wi’ Freedom,

Never heed whit the hoodies croak for doom.

In your hoose a’ the bairns o’ Adam

Can find breid, barley-bree and painted room.

When MacLean meets wi’s freens in Springburn

A’ the roses and geans will turn tae bloom,

And a black boy frae yont Nyanga

Dings the fell gallows o’ the burghers doon.

热爱自由的人们都向此地靠近,

食腐乌鸦的吓人话语切莫听信

所有亚当的子嗣在你家不要见外,

面包、麦酒与粉刷的房间将你们招待。

当麦克雷恩回到斯普林本的乡亲们身边*1

玫瑰与樱桃树都要鲜花盛开满天

来自尼扬加的黑人少年多有志气,*2

定要将当权者的绞刑架推倒落地。

*1【约翰.麦克雷恩(John MacLean)是出身格拉斯哥的革命者,斯普林本是工人阶级为主的产业城市。】

*2【可能指代纳尔逊.曼德拉。】

帖:4551644 复 4344063
2020-08-19 05:19:14
一者
2 安德鲁马是犹太人

英国舆论精英的一分子

帖:4547209 复 4344063
2020-08-19 00:53:15万年看客
2 左派与右派5

还有一位比起贝洛克与切斯特顿都更加温和的诗人,他也是最后一位在战争间期开始发表诗作的非左派主要诗人。今天有许多诗人都不承认约翰.贝杰曼算得上诗人。在他们看来,此人只是一个迎合公众口味、卖弄传统感伤情绪的押韵家而已。这话说的不算完全公道,可也不算完全不公道。贝杰曼于1909年出生在伦敦北部一户荷兰裔家庭,他是路易斯.马克尼斯的同代人。就像贝洛克与切斯特顿一样,贝杰曼也是一位虔诚的基督徒,不过他信得是高派圣公会。他曾就读于牛津大学,但是成绩一塌糊涂。年轻时他结识了奥登与斯彭德,后来为了糊口担任过中学老师与记者等工作。正是因为他所具备的记者特质,他在二十世纪三十年代创作的诗歌才会直到今天依然值得一读。他是中产阶级势力作风与时髦风气的敏锐观察家,风格类似马克尼斯但更加轻松愉快。他的诗文当中充满了同时代的商品品牌与各种日常用品——如果你想了解二十世纪三十年代英国中产阶级的生活方式,那就不该低估贝杰曼的价值。另一方面,他描写破败凋零的本事也不在奥登之下。请看《利明顿的死亡》(Death In Leamington):

She died in the upstairs bedroom

By the light of the ev'ning star

That shone through the plate glass window

From over Leamington Spa

她在楼上的卧室死去

当时夜晚明星高悬

光亮穿透了玻璃窗

明星俯瞰利明顿温泉。

Beside her the lonely crochet

Lay patiently and unstirred,

But the fingers that would have work'd it

Were dead as the spoken word.

孤独的钩针摆在她身侧

耐心地一动不动,不见有异,

她的十指本应运作繁忙

如今却像她的言语那样沉寂。

And Nurse came in with the tea-things

Breast high 'mid the stands and chairs-

But Nurse was alone with her own little soul,

And the things were alone with theirs.

护士走进屋里,端着茶具

胸脯高挺,身边是一排排桌椅——

护士有她自己的小小灵魂,

万物也都各有魂灵一缕。

She bolted the big round window,

She let the blinds unroll,

She set a match to the mantle,

She covered the fire with coal.

她插上了圆窗的粗大插销,

她将窗帘全都拉上,

她在壁炉旁划亮一根火柴,

又添了些煤,好让炉火烧旺。

And "Tea!" she said in a tiny voice

"Wake up! It's nearly five"

Oh! Chintzy, chintzy cheeriness,

Half dead and half alive.

“茶来了!”她轻声说道,

“醒醒!已经快五点了。”

哦!多么俗气的快活,

一半已死,另一半还活着。

Do you know that the stucco is peeling?

Do you know that the heart will stop?

From those yellow Italianate arches

Do you hear the plaster drop?

你可知墙皮正在脱落?

你可知心脏终将停跳?

你可听见石膏正在逐渐剥离,

从黄色的意式拱门往下掉?

Nurse looked at the silent bedstead,

At the gray, decaying face,

As the calm of a Leamington ev'ning

Drifted into the place.

护士看着寂静的床头,

灰白的面孔正在朽坏,

利明顿夜晚的安宁

正在将这里悄然覆盖。

She moved the table of bottles

Away from the bed to the wall;

And tiptoeing gently over the stairs

Turned down the gas in the hall.

她将摆满药瓶的桌子

从床边推到靠近墙壁;

然后踮着脚走下台阶

关上了大厅里的煤气。

这首感伤的诗歌其实并不能反映贝特曼的创作特色,至少反映不了他在创作早期的特色。在他的所有早期诗歌当中,《一名中尉的情歌》(A Subaltern’s Love Song)流传得最久也最受欢迎。这首诗创作于一战开始后不久,完美呈现了理想当中的英格兰郊区生活:

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,

Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun,

What strenuous singles we played after tea,

We in the tournament – you against me!

J.杭特尔.邓恩女士,J.杭特尔.邓恩女士,

多么神采飞扬,奥尔德肖特的艳阳将你整饬,

喝完茶之后我们玩了一局网球游戏,

我们都想取胜——你与我较量技艺!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,

The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,

With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,

I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

零比三十,零比四十,啊!欢乐正是我的软弱之处,

你身轻如燕飞速穿梭,还具有男生的潇洒风度。

你用最周详的洒脱风格赢得了欢乐的胜利,

J.杭特尔.邓恩,你的可爱让我浑身乏力。

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,

How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,

The warm-handled racket is back in its press,

But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,

你的胜利让我多么生气,多么难过,多么开心,

攥热了的球拍早已被送回球拍架上去,

但是满头波浪卷的赢家却丝毫不减对我的爱意。

Her father’s euonymus shines as we walk,

And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,

And cool the verandah that welcomes us in

To the six-o’clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

我们漫步在她父亲的黄杨树下,灿灿泛光的叶片,

我们交谈热烈,不慎错过了避暑宅邸的门面,

阴凉的露台欢迎我们掉头进门,

备下了琴酒、柠檬汁与六点新闻。

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,

The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,

As I struggle with double-end evening tie,

For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

室内有松木的香气,浴室里水声潺潺,

覆盖青苔的小径在我的卧室窗外蜿蜒,

我七手八脚想要将晚宴领带在胸前扎住,

我的胜利者与我要共舞一曲在高尔夫俱乐部。

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,

And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,

And westering, questioning settles the sun,

On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

运动衣与运动短裤在她的卧室乱扔在地,

各种赛事的奖杯布满了奶油色的墙壁,

西沉的太阳一边下落一边满脸问号,

乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,落日将你的低铅玻璃窗照耀。

The Hillman is waiting, the light’s in the hall,

The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,

My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair

And there on the landing’s the light on your hair.

希尔曼正在等待,大厅里灯光明亮,*1

埃及的风景照片醒目地挂在墙上,

我的爱,我在橡木楼梯旁边将你牵挂,

你站在楼梯口,灯光照映着你的秀发。

*1【希尔曼为汽车品牌。】

By roads “not adopted”, by woodlanded ways,

She drove to the club in the late summer haze,

Into nine-o’clock Camberley, heavy with bells

And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

她驶上了“少有人走”的道路,她穿过了林地,

在夏末微风当中她朝着俱乐部疾驰而去。

九点钟我们经过坎伯雷,镇上钟声响亮,

蘑菇、松树与常青树的气息在车厢里飘荡。

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,

I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,

Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!

Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl’s hand!

乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,

在停车场里我就听见了舞会开始的声音。

啊!萨里的暮光!乐队只会添乱!

啊!网球少女的纤手多么强健!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,

Above us the intimate roof of the car,

And here on my right is the girl of my choice,

With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

我们周围远远停着罗孚与奥斯汀,*2

我们头上是私密的车厢厢顶,

坐在我身边是我选择的姑娘,

鼻子略翘,声音在我心中回荡。

*2【均为汽车品牌。】

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,

And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.

We sat in the car park till twenty to one

And now I’m engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

她披肩上的香气若有若无,有些话语从未离唇,

即将参加的舞会多么烦人,多么烦人。

于是我们在停车场里并肩坐到午夜零点四十分,

如今乔安.杭特尔.邓恩已经与我约定了终身。

这首诗虽然文辞可爱,但也表明归根结底贝特曼算不得第一流的诗人。他过于卿卿我我,以至于有些矫揉造作。日后他将会赢得桂冠诗人的殊荣,并且投身文物保护工作,保住了一大批精美的维多利亚时代建筑,为英国文化事业做出了重大贡献。话说回来,1939年英国为之而战的许多价值观当中大概也包括卿卿我我与矫揉造作的权利,而且更加险恶的弊病正在海峡对岸变得越发醒目。

帖:4547130 复 4344063
2020-08-19 00:52:28万年看客
2 左派与右派4

在知识分子圈子以外,在极端左派与极端右派的政治圈子以外,两次大战间期的英国诗坛还出产了一批有趣的诗人,他们整体上偏保守,作品大都走得是幽默路线。这些人并不像奥登他们那样组成了小团体,而更偏向气质或者态度相似。

笔者首先想要介绍两位生在十九世纪七十年代的诗人,他们的创作生涯覆盖了二十世纪前半期,不过最出名的阶段还是在两次大战间期。两人都是天主教徒,都抱有反犹立场,笔下最出名的作品也都是儿童读物。萧伯纳曾经戏谑地将两人的名字合二为一——就像“马克斯彭登戴”那样——,将二人并称为“切斯特贝洛克”。西莱尔.贝洛克有一半法国血统,面目强悍,性情好斗,千百万小读者们都看过他的《警戒故事》(Cautionary Tales)。一战爆发之前他担任了五年的自由党议员,狂热的罗马天主教信仰决定了他的政治与社会理念。他相信宗教在欧洲的衰落意味着伊斯兰势力将要趁虚而入。他的诗歌极少显露出政治怒火或者过于严肃,但是他针对英国政治生活的讽刺却往往令人忍俊不禁。当时英国议会已经失去了大部分旧日权威,在战争间期成长起来的一代英国人看来,议会充满了贪污腐败的老不死。以下节选的是贝洛克的《朗迪勋爵》(Lord Lundy)的后半截。在笔者看来,既然德莱顿的讽刺诗被人们视为杰作,那么贝洛克的讽刺诗无论如何也不该被当成游戏笔墨:

It happened to Lord Lundy then,

As happens to so many men:

Towards the age of twenty-six,

They shoved him into politics;

In which profession he commanded

The Income that his rank demanded

In turn as Secretary for

India, the Colonies, and War.

But very soon his friends began

To doubt is he were quite the man:

Thus if a member rose to say

(As members do from day to day),

"Arising out of that reply . . .!"

Lord Lundy would begin to cry.

A Hint at harmless little jobs

Would shake him with convulsive sobs.

While as for Revelations, these

Would simply bring him to his knees,

And leave him whimpering like a child.

It drove his colleagues raving wild!

They let him sink from Post to Post,

From fifteen hundred at the most

To eight, and barely six--and then

To be Curator of Big Ben!. . .

And finally there came a Threat

To oust him from the Cabinet!

朗迪勋爵的这番经历,

许多人也有类似遭遇:

在他三十六岁这年

他们逼他步入政坛;

在职位上他能拿到

优厚工资与级别配套,

他的工作是做秘书,

负责战争、殖民地与印度。

但是他的朋友很快产生疑虑

不知道他究竟有没有能力:

比方说假如有人起立发言

(议员们总要开口在议会面前),

“我要回应刚才的建议……”

朗迪勋爵一听就痛哭流涕。

随便给他安排一点轻松工作

都会吓得他浑身抽搐哆嗦。

要是到了政务公开之际,

他当场就两腿一软膝盖触地,

像个小孩子那样哭哭啼啼,

逼得同事们全都又气又急。

他们将他的岗位一降再降,

从最高时的年薪一万五千英镑

降到八千,然后是六千不到,

最后干脆打发他去将大本钟照料!

最终传来一条厉声谴责

说这回要将他轰出内阁!

The Duke -- his aged grand-sire -- bore

The shame till he could bear no more.

He rallied his declining powers,

Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers,

And bitterly addressed him thus--

"Sir! you have disappointed us!

We had intended you to be

The next Prime Minister but three:

The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:

The Middle Class was quite prepared.

But as it is! . . . My language fails!

Go out and govern New South Wales!"

公爵——他的老祖父——也将耻辱蒙受,

直到有一天这位老大人终于受够。

他鼓舞起了仅剩的一点力量,

将年轻人叫到布拉克利的塔楼上。

满口苦涩地对他好一番训话:

“先生!你的表现太给我们拉胯!

我们原本对你抱有深切期望,

再过三届政府就扶持你当首相!

我们卖了股票,摆平了报社,

做通了中产阶级的说服工作,

可是你这点出息……我说不出一个字!

滚出去,你只配管理新南威尔士!”

The Aged Patriot groaned and died:

And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!

老大人一阵呻吟之后当场咽气,

老天啊!朗迪勋爵哭得昏天黑地!

但是贝洛克关于英国议会统治的最精彩讽刺诗写于1923年,当时改革派工党正在与毫无想象力的死硬派托利党以及早已名声扫地的自由党较劲。可悲的是,时至今日这段诗文看上去依然毫不过时。请看《咏大选》(On a General Election):

The accursed power which stands on privilege

(and goes with women, champagne and bridge)

Broke - and democracy resumed her reign

(which goes with bridge and women and champagne).

该死的权力依靠特权搭台

(搭配着女人、香槟与桥牌)

如今遭到打破——民主再次为王称尊

(搭配着桥牌、女人与香槟)。

合体组成“切斯特贝洛克”的另一位诗人是土生土长的伦敦人吉尔伯特.基思.切斯特顿。他也是斯莱德美术学院的学生。就像叶芝以及十九世纪末期几乎所有以艺术家自居的人们一样,他也曾涉足过神秘主义。他既能画得一手好画,又在几乎所有文学领域都留下了丰富的作品,尽管今天我们主要将他当成推理小说家,布朗神父探案系列的作者。诚然,切斯特顿的确是个反犹主义者。但是有一说一,他同样也从一开始就坚定反对纳粹德国及其种族理论。因为我们习惯了从左右之分出发来看待政治,今天我们经常忘记,二十世纪二三十年代的许多人都同时拒绝了法西斯主义与共产主义,试图找到第三条路。有一条道路曾经暂且流行过一阵,也就是天主教会主张的分配主义——简单来说,分配主义一方面相信私有财产不可侵犯,另一方面又主张相对较弱的政府力量,从而使得私有财产尽可能分散到全社会而不是集中在少数资本家手里。贝洛克与切斯特顿都曾是分配主义的积极倡导者。这条路能否走通暂且不论,至少为两人提供了置身于相互攻讦的政治阵营之外的余地。切斯特顿的诗歌就像他本人的身材那样庞大。他是个大胖子,平时总是身披黑斗篷,头戴宽檐帽,口叼雪茄烟,手持藏剑杖。他最出名的诗作赞美了英国历史与文化当中缺乏秩序与组织的特质。《起伏的英国路》(The Rolling English Road)这首诗完全有可能出自吉卜林之手,假如吉卜林的幽默感再强一点的话。但是这首诗绝非游戏笔墨,而是在一个独裁者横行的时代传达了一条令英国人感同身受的切实信息:

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,

The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.

A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,

And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;

A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread

The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

早在罗马人来到莱伊或者大步走向赛文之前,

步履起伏的英国醉汉就将起伏的英国道路修建。

九转八弯,升降错落,在乡间扭来扭去,

路上走得是教区牧师、乡绅与教堂杂役。

欢乐的道路,曲折的道路,我们曾经走过,

那天晚上我们从白金汉出发赶赴比奇海德。

I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,

And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;

But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed

To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,

Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,

The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.

我不知道波拿巴干过什么坏事,倒是认识不少乡绅,

我不想跟法国人打仗,这话实属发自真心;

但我当真与他们拼过刺刀,因为他们过来捣乱,

要将英国醉汉铺设的起伏道路抻成直线。

你我曾走过这条路,啤酒杯端在手里,

那天晚上我们途径古德温沙地前往格拉斯顿伯里。

His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run

Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?

The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,

But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.

God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear

The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.

他的罪孽都原谅了他;要不为何在他身后

有鲜花奔跑;树篱为何在阳光下长势繁厚?

野东西从左跑到右,分不清左右两侧,

野玫瑰却笼罩着他,当人们发现他醉卧沟壑。

上帝宽恕我们,不要磨炼我们;我们看得并不真,

那天晚上我们途经布莱顿码头前往班诺克伯恩。

My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,

Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,

But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,

And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;

For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,

Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

我的朋友们,我们再不能如此行事或者模仿古老愤怒,

也不能延展青年的愚蠢,在老年走上羞耻之路,

赶路时要耳聪目明,沿着道路蜿蜒向前,趁着夜光

清醒看到唯有死亡经营的体面酒馆还在开张;

我们还有好消息可听,还有美景会浮现眼前,

在我们途经肯萨尔格林前往天堂之前。

切斯特顿还创作过另外一首政治诗歌《秘密的英格兰人民》(The Secret People of England)。甚至直到今天,英格兰民族主义者们以及其他觉得自己遭到政治体系排斥的人们依然经常引用这首诗当中的诗句。诗文当中刻意掩饰着民粹主义威胁,但是就像切斯特顿的其他诗歌一样,这首诗的开端也很温和:

Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget;

For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet.

There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully,

There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we.

There are no folk in the whole world so helpless or so wise.

There is hunger in our bellies, there is laughter in our eyes;

You laugh at us and love us, both mugs and eyes are wet:

Only you do not know us. For we have not spoken yet.

向我们微笑,给我们工钱,与我们擦肩;但是可不要忘记;

我们是英格兰的人民,从未开口表明心意。

那么多胖农夫喝酒时不如以前开心,

那么多自由法国农民比我们更富更伤心。

全世界再没人像我们这般明智或者无助,

笑意充盈我们的眼睛,饥饿充满我们的肚腹;

你嘲笑我们热爱我们,杯中酒未尽,两眼泪未去:

可是你并不认识我们,因为我们尚未开口表明心意。

The fine French kings came over in a flutter of flags and dames.

We liked their smiles and battles, but we never could say their names.

The blood ran red to Bosworth and the high French lords went down;

There was naught but a naked people under a naked crown.

And the eyes of the King's Servants turned terribly every way,

And the gold of the King's Servants rose higher every day.

They burnt the homes of the shaven men, that had been quaint and kind,

Till there was no bed in a monk's house, nor food that man could find.*3

The inns of God where no man paid, that were the wall of the weak.

The King's Servants ate them all. And still we did not speak.

高雅的法国国王来到这里,随行旗帜招展,后宫佳丽娉婷,

我们喜欢他们的微笑与战斗,但却从来念不出他们的姓名。*1

博斯沃思血流遍地,高贵的法国贵胄全都被砍翻,*2

只剩下我们这些赤裸的人民簇拥一顶赤裸的王冠。

国王的仆役们四下打量眼光毒辣好似尖刀,

国王的仆役们收拢黄金日复一日越堆越高。

削发之人的宁静安详住所被他们烧成白地,

直到僧侣们再无床铺栖身,饥饿时无处可去。*3

上帝的酒馆无人光顾,都说那是专属弱者的墙壁,

都被国王的仆役们吞吃殆尽,但我们依然嘴巴紧闭。

*1【即金雀花王朝统治者以及更早时期的诺曼统治者。】

*2【博斯沃思即玫瑰战争最后决战的发生地,这一战标志着金雀花王朝的终结与都铎王朝的建立。】

*3【亨利八世时期的宗教改革解散了修道院并且没收其财产。】

And the face of the King's Servants grew greater than the King:

He tricked them, and they trapped him, and stood round him in a ring.

The new grave lords closed round him, that had eaten the abbey's fruits,

And the men of the new religion, with their bibles in their boots,

We saw their shoulders moving, to menace or discuss,

And some were pure and some were vile; but none took heed of us.

We saw the King as they killed him, and his face was proud and pale;

And a few men talked of freedom, while England talked of ale.

国王的仆役最终变得比国王更有脸面:

他骗他们,他们抓他,围成一圈将他困在里面。

新兴的大人们面色阴郁,都曾将修道院的果实品尝,

新兴宗教的信徒们将圣经在靴子里收藏。*4

我们看到他们耸动肩膀,讨论正事或者威胁他人,

有些人纯洁,有些人败坏,但全都对我们置若罔闻。

我们眼看他们杀死国王,国王的面色苍白而骄傲;

寥寥几人谈论着自由,英格兰却谈论着啤酒饮料。

*4【“新兴宗教的信徒们”即以克伦威尔为代表的清教集团。克伦威尔为手下的新模范军士兵制作了仅有十六页的圣经摘录,士兵们惯于将其塞在靴筒里携带。】

A war that we understood not came over the world and woke

Americans, Frenchmen, Irish; but we knew not the things they spoke.

They talked about rights and nature and peace and the people's reign:

And the squires, our masters, bade us fight; and scorned us never again.

Weak if we be for ever, could none condemn us then;

Men called us serfs and drudges; men knew that we were men.

In foam and flame at Trafalgar, on Albuera plains,

We did and died like lions, to keep ourselves in chains,

We lay in living ruins; firing and fearing not

The strange fierce face of the Frenchmen who knew for what they fought,

And the man who seemed to be more than a man we strained against and broke;

And we broke our own rights with him. And still we never spoke.

一场我们不理解的战争席卷了宇内天下,

惊醒了美国人、法国人、爱尔兰人;但我们却听不懂他们说话。

他们主张人权、人性、和平与人民当家主事,

而乡绅们——我们的主人们——命令我们作战,还斥责我们不准想三想四。

我们或曾软弱,但是这次谁也不能谴责我们疲软乏力,

他们曾视我们为奴仆人渣,这次却见识了我们的骨气。

从阿尔布埃拉平原到火光映照浮沫的特拉法尔加海面,*5

我们宛如雄狮般决死拼杀,只为保住自己身上的锁链。

我们纵横肆虐,全然无惧地射出一发发子弹,

朝向法国人的狰狞面容,他们知道自己为何而战。

那位看似高于凡夫俗子之人终究在我们手下一败涂地,*6

我们的权利也伴随他一同破灭,而我们依然嘴巴紧闭。

*5【阿尔布埃拉平原与特拉法尔加均为拿破仑战争期间英法交战的战场。】

*6【“看似高于凡夫俗子之人”即拿破仑。】

Our patch of glory ended; we never heard guns again.

But the squire seemed struck in the saddle; he was foolish, as if in pain,

He leaned on a staggering lawyer, he clutched a cringing Jew,

He was stricken; it may be, after all, he was stricken at Waterloo.

Or perhaps the shades of the shaven men, whose spoil is in his house,

Come back in shining shapes at last to spoil his last carouse:

We only know the last sad squires rode slowly towards the sea,

And a new people takes the land: and still it is not we.

我们的片刻荣誉就此告终,我们再未听到枪炮鸣奏。*7

但是马鞍上的乡绅却似乎受到重击,这蠢货看上去十分难受,

他倚向脚步蹒跚的律师,他抓住畏缩的犹太奸商,

他越发痛苦;或许病根在于滑铁卢留下的积年暗伤。

又或许是削发僧侣的幽灵作祟,只因寺院里搜刮来的宝货

遍布他家,幽灵们的耀眼光辉败坏了他最后一次寻欢作乐。

我们只知道悲哀的乡绅信马由缰走向大海一命归天,

一群新人随即接管这片土地;但是他们与我们无关。

*7【本诗创作于一战之前。】

They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords,*8

Lords without anger or honour, who dare not carry their swords.

They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes;

They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.

And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs,

Their doors are shut in the evening; and they know no songs.

乡绅将我们交代给了新一批主人,新主人整天郁郁寡欢,*8

既无荣誉亦无愤怒,甚至不敢将宝剑带在身边。

他们的战斗方式是整理文件,他们眼神明亮死寂不带人情,

他们审视我们的劳动与欢笑就像力竭之人打量飞舞的苍蝇。

他们那沉甸甸的无爱怜悯比起古代恶政更加混账,

他们的办公室晚上锁门,他们不懂如何放声歌唱。

*8【即一战前兴起的自由党官僚阶层。】

We hear men speaking for us of new laws strong and sweet,

Yet is there no man speaketh as we speak in the street.

It may be we shall rise the last as Frenchmen rose the first,

Our wrath come after Russia's wrath and our wrath be the worst.

It may be we are meant to mark with our riot and our rest

God's scorn for all men governing. It may be beer is best.

But we are the people of England; and we have not spoken yet.

Smile at us, pay us, pass us. But do not quite forget.

我们听说有人替我们发言,声称新法律强大而甜蜜,

但是当我们在街头开腔时却没人替我们发言提议。

法国人动手最早,我们动手大概会排在最后,

我们的愤怒跟随着俄国人的愤怒,我们的愤怒或许最难承受。

或许我们注定要用我们的暴乱与安歇来标记

上帝对于一切人间统治的蔑视。又或许还不如喝啤酒去。

但是我们是英格兰的人民,我们尚未开口表明心意。

向我们微笑,给我们工钱,与我们擦肩;但是可不要忘记。

所以说,亲爱的读者们,假如你们真想引用这首诗的某些段落——笔者必须承认本诗确实朗朗上口——千万别忘了切斯特顿在诗中提出的实际主张是在英国发动一场比起俄国更加血腥的革命,而俄国革命的死亡人数已经达到了几百万人。

帖:4547128 复 4344063
2020-08-20 01:00:49
桥上
3 新南威尔士是指澳大利亚的州吧?

帖:4547486 复 4547128
2020-08-20 04:38:45
万年看客
4 啊,没注意

要真是这样就更讽刺了

帖:4547535 复 4547486
2020-08-18 02:27:40万年看客
2 左派与右派3

塞西尔.戴-刘易斯、路易斯.马克尼斯以及斯蒂芬.斯彭德的文坛形象多多少少都受到了奥登的遮蔽。但是这三个人的观察眼光都很敏锐,也都为二十世纪的英国留下了各自的记录。戴-刘易斯生在爱尔兰,在牛津上了大学。有人质问为什么第二次世界大战缺乏战争诗歌的描写,戴-刘易斯则代表他们这个小团体做出回应,指出原因在于左派的梦想已经破灭。请看《战争诗人在哪里?》(Where Are The War Poets ?):

They who in folly or mere greed

Enslaved religion, markets, laws,

Borrow our language now and bid

Us to speak up in freedom's cause.

他们由于愚蠢或者单纯的贪婪

奴役了宗教、市场与法律,

如今又借走了我们的语言,

要求我们高唱自由的旋律。

It is the logic of our times,

No subject for immortal verse -

That we who lived by honest dreams

Defend the bad against the worse

这是我们这个时代的逻辑,

并无题材配得上不朽诗行——

我们要想凭借诚实梦境活下去,

就只得帮助恶棍抵挡混世魔王。

但是在这四人当中笔者本人最喜欢的还是生在贝尔法斯特的路易斯.马克尼斯。此人从来都算不得宣传诗人,但是描绘周遭世界的笔法却可圈可点。下面节选的是他的代表作《风笛音乐》(Bagpipe music),诗文充满了欢闹的活力,韵律令人上瘾。由此可见,即便在二十世纪三十年代,社会评论也不必非得板着脸孔说教不可:

It’s no go the merrygoround, it’s no go the rickshaw,

All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.

Their knickers are made of crêpe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,

Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with heads of bison.

这可不是坐旋转木马,也不是骑跷跷板,

我们只想乘坐豪车,去观赏单间艳舞表演。

她们的鞋子是蟒蛇皮,她们的内裤是双绉绸,

虎纹挂毯装饰大厅,墙上挂得是野牛头。

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,

Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,

Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whisky,

Kept its bones for dumb-bells to use when he was fifty.

约翰.麦克唐纳发现一具死尸,塞在沙发底下,*

一直等到它活过来,再用烧火棍打趴下,

卖了它的眼珠当纪念,卖了它的血换威士忌,

留下它的骨头当哑铃,等到五十岁拿来练力气。

*【约翰.麦克唐纳是当时苏格兰著名的风笛演奏家,平时以推销威士忌为主业。】

It’s no go the Yogi-Man, it’s no go Blavatsky,

All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.

靠不住的印度秘术大师,靠不住的布拉瓦茨基,*

我们只希望银行里有点存款,拉着女朋友去打的。

*【即海伦.彼得罗夫娜.布拉瓦茨基,十九世纪神秘学家、预言家。】

Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,

Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.

It’s no go your maidenheads, it’s no go your culture,

All we want is a Dunlop tyre and the devil mend the puncture.

安妮.麦克唐纳去挤牛奶,欧石楠绊住她的脚跟,

醒过来听见《老维也纳》舞曲的录音。

靠不住你的文化,靠不住你的处女膜,

我们只想要一个邓禄普轮胎,让魔鬼将破口弥合。

诗人在一片欢声笑语之下安插了大量尖锐的社会讽刺。这显然不是剑桥大学的理想主义左派们希望见到的文化。另一方面,期望更好生活的真正工人阶级的表现也令知识分子们大失所望。但是马克尼斯听上去却不怎么沮丧:

It’s no go the Herring Board, it’s no go the Bible,

All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.

靠不住鲱鱼捕捞委员会,靠不住圣经篇章,

我们只想要一包香烟,当我们双手闲得发慌。

It’s no go the picture palace, it’s no go the stadium,

It’s no go the country cot with a pot of pink geraniums,

It’s no go the Government grants, it’s no go the elections,

Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.

靠不住体育馆,靠不住画廊,

靠不住摆着粉色天竺葵的乡间草房,

靠不住政府补贴,靠不住选举,

一腚坐上五十年好将退休金领取。

It’s no go my honey love, it’s no go my poppet;

Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.

The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever,

But if you break the bloody glass you won’t hold up the weather.

靠不住我的心肝爱人,靠不住我的玩偶,

一天又一天的操劳,利润都被大风刮走。

气压表时时刻刻都在降低,气压表将会永远跌落,

可是就算你砸烂该死的气压表也挡不住风雨大作。

大萧条过后的三十年代成为了享乐主义盛行的时期——英国南方的享乐风气更胜于北方——消费主义文化第一次在英国爆发开来,为英国人带来了巴特林度假营、相对廉价的汽车以及遍布各地的电影院。马克尼斯的长诗《秋日杂记》(Autumn Journal)篇幅漫长,结构松散,可读性极强,反映了二战前夕英国的景象。在以下这段典型节选当中,我们可以看到诗人与这样的生活难解难分:

And the passing of the Morning Post and of life's climacteric

And the growth of vulgarity, cars that pass the gate-lodge

And crowds undressing on the beach

And the hiking cockney lovers with thoughts directed

Neither to God nor Nation but each to each.

But the home is still a sanctum under the pelmets,

All quiet on the Family Front,

Farmyard noises across the fields at evening

While the trucks of the Southern Railway dawdle .... shunt

Into poppy sidings for the night - night which knows no passion

No assault of hands or tongue

For all is old as flint or chalk or pine-needles

And the rebels and the young

Have taken the train to town or the two-seater

Unravelling rails or road,

Losing the thread deliberately behind them--

Autumnal palinode.

And I am in the train too now and summer is going

South as I go north

Bound for the dead leaves falling, the burning bonfire,

The dying that brings forth

The harder life, revealing the trees' girders,

The frost that kills the germs of laissez-faire;

West Meon, Tisted, Farnham, Woking, Weybridge,

Then London's packed and stale and pregnant air.

My dog, a symbol of the abandoned order,

Lies on the carriage floor,

Her eyes inept and glamorous as a film star's,

Who wants to live, i.e. wants more

Presents, jewellery, furs, gadgets, solicitations

As if to live were not

Following the curve of a planet or controlled water

But a leap in the dark, a tangent, a stray shot.

It is this we learn after so many failures,

The building of castles in sand, of queens in snow,

That we cannot make any corner in life or in life' s beauty,

That no river is a river which does not flow.

Surbiton, and a woman gets in, painted

With dyed hair but a ladder in her stocking and eyes

Patient beneath the calculated lashes,

Inured for ever to surprise;

《早间邮报》与人生转折点的逝去

粗俗的增长,经过大门岗亭的汽车

在海滩上脱衣的人群

远足的伦敦东区恋人们,他们的思绪

既非指向上帝,亦非国家,而是指向彼此。

但是家依然是窗帘盒之下的圣所,

家庭前线一片寂静,

农场的喧嚣在夜晚穿过田野

南线铁路的车皮慢悠悠地行驶……转轨到了

虞美人从中的支线上过夜——这夜晚不知激情

没有手或舌头发起的袭击

因为一切都像燧石、白垩或者松针一样古老,

而叛逆者与年轻人们

乘坐火车或者双座汽车进了城

将铁路或公路展开,

故意在身后留下线头——

秋天的撤回诗。

我也在火车上,随着我往北去

夏天正在南行

我要前往枯叶飘落、篝火燃烧、

旨在诞生的死亡

更艰难的生活揭露了树木的梁柱

杀死了放任主义细菌的霜冻

西梅昂,提斯特德,法汉姆,沃金,韦布里奇

拥挤、陈腐、怀孕的伦敦空气。

我的狗,被抛弃的秩序的象征

躺在车厢地板上,

她的眼睛笨拙而又迷人恰似电影明星,

想要生活,想要更多

礼物、珠宝、皮草、玩意、教唆

就好像活着并不必

遵循行星或者受控流水的曲线

而是一步跃入黑暗,一条切线,一发流弹。

这么多次失败之后我们学到了这一点,

在沙地上搭建城堡,用雪堆砌女王雕像,

在生活当中或者生活的美好当中无法投机取巧,

不流淌的河流就算不上河流。

瑟比顿站,一个女人走进车厢,

满头染发,但是丝袜破损成梯子状,眼睛

耐心地隐藏在精心计算的睫毛下,

始终做好令人吃惊的准备;

但是在离开马克尼斯之前假如不介绍一下他笔下最优秀的短诗,那将是极其不负责任的行为。《雪》(Snow)展现了诗人能怎样在最平凡琐碎的时刻当中发现新颖且有用的思想。如果三十年代还有一首诗能给人带来慰藉,那么肯定就是下面这首:

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was

Spawning snow and pink roses against it

Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:

World is suddener than we fancy it.

房间突然丰饶了起来,硕大的凸窗

引起了落雪,倚着它的粉色玫瑰

无声地既配合又不相容:

世界比我们的幻想更加突然。

World is crazier and more of it than we think,

Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion

A tangerine and spit the pips and feel

The drunkenness of things being various.

这世界的疯狂比我们的设想更深且更多,

根深蒂固的复数。我将一个橘子

剥皮分瓣,吐出橘核,感受到了

事物多样性的熏熏醉意。

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world

Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes—

On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands—

There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

炉火发出泡泡一般的声响

这世界比我们的假设更美好也更恶意——

在舌尖在眼里在耳中在某人的手掌——

雪与硕大玫瑰丛之间不止隔着一层玻璃。

到现在为止我们遇到的三十年代政治诗人都是左派。实际上这一时期的绝大多数政治诗人也的确是左派,但是反例并非没有。比方说最早提出“马克斯彭登戴”这个诨号的人就是一位激进右派罗伊.坎贝尔。他也志愿参加了西班牙内战,不过加入了法西斯一方对抗社会主义者。坎贝尔生于南非,是一位酒量过人的骑手兼钓鱼迷。起初他一头栽进了牛津与伦敦的痛饮高歌的波希米亚圈子,但是后来却完全站到了当时流行的弗洛伊德主义与马克思主义的对立面上。他的妻子与弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙的女友维塔.萨克维尔-韦斯特展开了一场女同恋爱,致使他与布鲁姆斯伯里团体最终闹翻,并且将后者当成了凶恶嘲讽的对象。接下来坎贝尔搬到了西班牙,目睹了共产主义者大肆杀害神父与修女的惨状,致使他决定支持弗朗哥的法西斯独裁政权,尽管在二战开始时他还是背弃了纳粹并且加入了英军。

坎贝尔的极端政治立场与极端讽刺文笔在相当程度上损害了他的身后名誉。休.麦克迪尔米德就曾经写了一首长诗专门攻击他。但是在他最得意时,坎贝尔也曾被人拿来与T.S.艾略特相提并论,后来他还成为了狄兰.托马斯的密友与同事。下面这首《我们就像大千世界》(We are Like Worlds)一方面采用了历史正在前进的左派感受,另一方面又采用了D.H.劳伦斯的自我主义与意象。

We bear to future times the secret news

That first was whispered to the new-made earth:

We are like worlds with nations in our thews,

Shaped for delight, and primed for endless birth.

We never kiss but vaster shapes possess

Our bodies: towering up into the skies,

We wear the night and thunder for our dress,

While, vaster than imagination, rise

Two giant forms, like cobras flexed to sting,

Bending their spines in one tremendous ring

With all the starlight burning through their eyes,

Fire in their loins, and on their lips the hiss

Of breath indrawn above some steep abyss.

When, like the sun, our heavenly desire

Has turned this flesh into a cloud of fire

Through which our nerves their strenuous lightning fork

Eternity has blossomed in an hour

And as we gaze upon that wondrous flower

We think the world a beetle on its stalk.

我们为未来时代带来了秘密的消息,

这第一条要低声耳语传递给新造的大地:

我们就像众多世界,列国是我们的筋肉气力,

为了欢乐而塑造,为得是无尽的孕育。

我们从不亲吻,但是更宏大的形状

占据了我们的身体:一直通到天上,

我们将夜幕与雷霆当做蔽体衣裳,

此外另有两大巨物,规模无法想象,

恰似一对眼镜蛇准备亮出毒牙刺扎,

脊柱弯曲呈巨环形,姿态蓄势待发,

它们的眼里燃烧着无尽的星光闪耀,

烈火缠腰,双唇间传出喘息嘶叫

这声响将无底深渊笼罩

那时就像太阳,我们天堂一般的欲望

将这具肉体转化成了火云万丈

在其中他们那强健的闪电就是我们的神经

永恒在一个钟点之内绽放

当我们将这神奇的花朵凝望

我们觉得这世界只是甲虫攀爬花茎。

坎贝尔也创作过很有分量的宗教诗歌,但是他的专长还是在于剃刀一般锋利的讽刺。下面这首四行诗讽刺的是某些南非小说家:

You praise the firm restraint with which they write -

I'm with you there, of course:

They use the snaffle and the curb all right,

But where's the bloody horse?

你赞扬他们写作严格讲规矩——

你这话我当然认可:

他们又拽嚼子又拉缰绳,动作都对,

可是他们的马死哪去了?

帖:4546690 复 4344063
2020-08-09 23:26:39万年看客
2 左派与右派2

维斯坦.休.奥登的诗才远胜康福德,日后他将会摒弃共产主义并且就像T.S.艾略特那样转向基督教。但是目前他还像康福德一样满心火热激情,并且凭借自身魅力吸引了许多其他人投奔了左派。有许多早期的奥登诗作都很适合放在这里,其中大部分——包括著名同性恋情诗《葬礼蓝调》——至今依然在英国文化当中脍炙人口。但是《西班牙》(Spain)这首诗当真值得在这里全文引用。在这首诗中,奥登也像康福德一样感到人类历史已经走到了紧要关头,改天换地的全球革命即将到来。这首诗集中体现了奥登赖以成名的特质:当代与古代的小心混合,迫切的韵律,还有大开大合的自信——这一点在本诗后半段尤其明显——事情就是这样,你就该这么做。后来奥登在1939年逃离英国前往美国,隔岸观火地观察了英国大战希特勒,而且逐渐了解到了斯大林统治下的暴行,因此也不喜欢这首诗了,甚至还试图修改原句。但是原诗相当于一份历史文献,向我们充分揭示了二十世纪三十年代英国一部分顶尖知识分子的想法:

Yesterday all the past. The language of size

Spreading to China along the trade-routes; the diffusion

Of the counting-frame and the cromlech;

Yesterday the shadow-reckoning in the sunny climates.

昨天是陈迹,是度量衡的语言

沿着通商的途径传到中国,是算盘

和平顶石墓的传播;

昨天是在晴朗天气计算日影。。

Yesterday the assessment of insurance by cards,

The divination of water; yesterday the invention

Of cartwheels and clocks, the taming of

Horses. Yesterday the bustling world of the navigators.

昨天是用纸牌估算吉凶,

是水卜法;昨天是发明

车轮和时钟,是驯服

马匹;昨天是航海家活跃的世界。

Yesterday the abolition of fairies and giants,

the fortress like a motionless eagle eyeing the valley,

the chapel built in the forest;

Yesterday the carving of angels and alarming gargoyles;

昨天是对仙灵和巨怪的破除,

是古堡像不动的鹰隼凝视着山谷,

是树林里建筑的教堂;

昨天是天使和吓人的滴水兽雕刻。

The trial of heretics among the columns of stone;

Yesterday the theological feuds in the taverns

And the miraculous cure at the fountain;

Yesterday the Sabbath of witches; but to-day the struggle

是石柱之间的异端审判;

昨天是在酒店里的神学争论

和泉水的奇异疗效;

昨天是女巫的欢宴。但今天是斗争。

Yesterday the installation of dynamos and turbines,

The construction of railways in the colonial desert;

Yesterday the classic lecture

On the origin of Mankind. But to-day the struggle.

昨天是装置发电机和涡轮机,

是在殖民地沙漠上铺设铁轨;

昨天是关于人类起源的

学院式讲课。但今天是斗争。

Yesterday the belief in the absolute value of Greek,

The fall of the curtain upon the death of a hero;

Yesterday the prayer to the sunset

And the adoration of madmen. but to-day the struggle.

昨天是深信希腊语的绝对价值,

是一位英雄之死的剧终闭幕;

昨天是向落日的祈祷

以及崇拜疯人。但今天是斗争。

As the poet whispers, startled among the pines,

Or where the loose waterfall sings compact, or upright

On the crag by the leaning tower:

"O my vision. O send me the luck of the sailor."

诗人低语时猛然一惊,他在松林里

或有奔放瀑布歌唱的地方,

或挺立在斜塔边的岩上

"噢,我的幻象。送给我以水手的好运!"

And the investigator peers through his instruments

At the inhuman provinces, the virile bacillus

Or enormous Jupiter finished:

"But the lives of my friends. I inquire. I inquire."

观测者在瞄着他的仪器,观望到

渺无人烟的区域,富有活力的杆菌

或者巨大的木星被了结了:

“但我朋友们的生命呢?我要问,我要问。”

And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheets

Of the evening paper: "Our day is our loss. O show us

History the operator, the

Organiser. Time the refreshing river."

穷人在不生火的陋室里放下晚报说:

“我们过一天就是一天的损失。噢,让我们

看到历史是操作者,

是组织者,时间是使人苏生的河。”

And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life

That shapes the individual belly and orders

The private nocturnal terror:

"Did you not found the city state of the sponge,

列国集起了这些呼声,召唤

那塑造个人口腹、并安排

私自的夜之恐怖的生命:

“你岂不曾建立过海绵的城邦?”

"Raise the vast military empires of the shark

And the tiger, establish the robin's plucky canton?

Intervene. O descend as a dove or

A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend."

“岂不曾组织过鲨鱼和猛虎的

庞大军事帝国,成立过知更雀的英勇小郡?

干涉吧,降临吧,作为鸽子,

或严父,或温和的工程师。但请降临。”

And the life, if it answers at all, replied from the heart

And the eyes and the lungs, from the shops and squares of the city

"O no, I am not the mover;

Not to-day; not to you. To you, I'm the

然而生命不予回答,或者它的回答

是发自心、眼与肺,发自城市的商店

和广场:“呵,不,我不是动力,

今天我不是,对你们不是;对于你们

"Yes-man, the bar-companion, the easily-duped;

I am whatever you do. I am your vow to be

Good, your humorous story.

I am your business voice. I am your marriage.

我是听差遣的,是酒馆的伙计和傻瓜,

我是你们的所做所为,你们的笑话,

你们要当好人的誓言;

我是你们处事的意见;我是你们的婚姻。

"What's your proposal? To build the just city? I will.

I agree. Or is it the suicide pact, the romantic

Death? Very well, I accept, for

I am your choice, your decision. Yes, I am Spain."

你们想干什么?建立正义之城?我愿意。

我同意。或者相约集体自杀,投向浪漫的

死亡?那也不错,我接受,因为

我是你们的选择和决定:我是西班牙。”

Many have heard it on remote peninsulas,

On sleepy plains, in the aberrant fishermen's islands

Or the corrupt heart of the city.

Have heard and migrated like gulls or the seeds of a flower.

许多人听到这声音在遥远的半岛,

在沉睡的平原,在偏僻的渔岛上,

在城市的腐败心脏,

随即像海鸥或花籽一样迁移来。

They clung like burrs to the long expresses that lurch

Through the unjust lands, through the night, through the alpine tunnel;

They floated over the oceans;

They walked the passes. All presented their lives.

他们紧把着长列的快车,悄悄驶过

不义的土地,驶过黑夜,驶过高山隧道;

他们漂过海洋;

他们步行过隘口:为了来奉献生命。

On that arid square, that fragment nipped off from hot

Africa, soldered so crudely to inventive Europe;

On that tableland scored by rivers,

Our thoughts have bodies; the menacing shapes of our fever

那干燥的方块土地,从炎热的非洲

切下,被粗糙地焊接到善于发明的欧洲:

在那片河流纵横的高原上,

我们的思想有了形体,我们的热病的骇人外形,

Are precise and alive. For the fears which made us respond

To the medicine ad, and the brochure of winter cruises

Have become invading battalions;

And our faces, the institute-face, the chain-store, the ruin

精确而又鲜活。因为让我们对于

药品广告与冬季邮轮宣传册做出反应的恐惧

已经变成了入侵的营团;

我们的面孔,体制的面孔,连锁店,以及废墟

Are projecting their greed as the firing squad and the bomb.

Madrid is the heart. Our moments of tenderness blossom

As the ambulance and the sandbag;

Our hours of friendship into a people's army.

正在将他们的贪婪投射成为火枪队与炸弹。

马德里就是心脏。我们的温柔时刻绽放

成为了救护车与沙袋;

我们的友谊钟点结成了人民军队。

To-morrow, perhaps the future. The research on fatigue

And the movements of packers; the gradual exploring of all the

Octaves of radiation;

To-morrow the enlarging of consciousness by diet and breathing.

明天也许就是未来:对疲劳的研究

包装机的运转;逐步探索

辐射的所有频段;

明天是通过控制饮食和呼吸来扩大意识。

To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic love,

the photographing of ravens; all the fun under

Liberty's masterful shadow;

To-morrow the hour of the pageant-master and the musician,

明天是重新发现浪漫的爱情;

是给乌鸦拍照;是在自由的巧妙荫庇下

享受各种乐趣;

明天是庆典主持人和乐师的好时光,

The beautiful roar of the chorus under the dome;

To-morrow the exchanging of tips on the breeding of terriers,

The eager election of chairmen

By the sudden forest of hands. But to-day the struggle.

穹顶之下的合唱团美丽地高歌,

明天将会交换梗犬育种的心得与诀窍,

将会认真地突然举手如林

选举主席。但今天是斗争。

To-morrow for the young the poets exploding like bombs,

The walks by the lake, the weeks of perfect communion;

To-morrow the bicycle races

Through the suburbs on summer evenings. But to-day the struggle.

明天为年青人准备,是诗人象炸弹般爆炸,

是湖边漫步,是情投意合的一周又一周;

明天是在夏夜

穿过市郊的自行车比赛:但今天是斗争。

To-day the deliberate increase in the chances of death,

The consious acceptance of guilt in the necessary murder;

To-day the expending of powers

On the flat ephemeral pamphlet and the boring meeting.

今天是存心增加死亡的机会;

是自觉地承担必要的谋杀罪;

今天是把精力耗费在

乏味而短命的小册子和腻人的会议上。

To-day the makeshift consolations: the shared cigarette,

The cards in the candlelit barn, and the scraping concert,

The masculine jokes; to-day the

Fumbled and unsatisfactory embrace before hurting.

今天是临时的慰藉,是共吸一支香烟;

在谷仓的烛光下打牌,乱弹的音乐会,

男人之间的玩笑;今天是

弄痛对方之前笨拙而不满意的拥抱。

The stars are dead. The animals will not look.

We are left alone with our day, and the time is short, and

History to the defeated

May say Alas but cannot help nor pardon.

星辰都已消失,野兽不再张望。

只剩下我们面对着我们的日子,而且时不待人,更何况

对于失败者,历史

可能会叹息,但却无法帮助或宽恕。【杜运燮、查良铮等译】

奥登设想的今天至少在英国从未到来,大多数英国人都应当感到谢天谢地。但是奥登的确具备非凡的诗才,触及了二十世纪与历史经验的各个方面,并且激昂所有这些方面紧密整合起来,合成为单一的论点,由此取得了非凡的成就。他不仅会创作天真的革命宣传诗歌,同时也是一位先知先觉的观察家。下面这首短诗《暴君的墓志铭》(Epitaph On A Tyrant)可谓字字入骨,即便在二十一世纪的今天依然不显过时,真是可悲得很:

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,

And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;

He knew human folly like the back of his hand,

And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;

When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,

And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

追求一种尽善尽美,

所创之诗简单易明;

熟捻人类千般愚昧,

万分热衷军队舰艇;

笑则重臣朝堂爆笑,

哭则孩童街头丧命。【无心剑网友译】

自从奥登于1939年跑到美国之后,他在英国的名声就再也没有完全恢复过。但是来到曼哈顿之后,他确实为我们献上了一篇杰作,题材是希特勒战争开始之前英国乃至全世界的恐惧情绪。在水平发挥最高的时候,奥登的诗句就像咒语一般摇撼人心,似乎成为了整个时代的代言人。这位天资聪颖并且痴迷于地质学、古典文化、宗教与政治的约克郡男孩终究成长为了一名面目肃杀的权威,他的声音一旦入耳就休想忘却。以下节选的是《1939年9月1日》(September 1, 1939)的头三节。在笔者看来,这段诗文只能用完美二字来形容。

I sit in one of the dives

On Fifty-second Street

Uncertain and afraid

As the clever hopes expire

Of a low dishonest decade:

Waves of anger and fear

Circulate over the bright

And darkened lands of the earth,

Obsessing our private lives;

The unmentionable odour of death

Offends the September night.

我坐在第五十二大街的

一家下等酒吧里*1

犹豫不决,忧心忡忡

那些聪明的希望已经过期

在这卑下虚伪的十年末尾:

愤怒与恐惧的电波

在这地球上明亮

与变暗的土地上传送,*2

扰乱我们的私人生活;

死亡那不便言及的气味

侵犯着九月的夜晚。

*1【这里的“下等酒吧”很可能是纽约曼哈顿的迪兹俱乐部,这是奥登经常光临的一家同性恋酒吧,他在这里结识了他的美国男友切斯特.卡尔曼(Chester Kallman)。在本诗第六节还会提到一对同性恋情侣,波兰裔芭蕾舞演员瓦斯拉夫.尼任斯基与俄国芭蕾舞编导塞尔戈.佳吉列夫。】

*2【1939年9月1日是纳粹德国入侵波兰的日期。欧洲与美国之间存在六到八小时的时差,当诗人在白天接收到消息时,波兰已经入夜,故而有“明亮/与变暗的土地”一说。此外“变暗”也指代了代纳粹入侵。】

Accurate scholarship can

Unearth the whole offence

From Luther until now

That has driven a culture mad,

Find what occurred at Linz

What huge imago made

A psychopathic god:

I and the public know

What all schoolchildren learn,

Those to whom evil is done

Do evil in return.

精湛的学问能够

揭示出全部的伤害,

从路德直到如今,

把一种文化逼得疯狂,

看看发生在林茨的事,*

巨大的心像造就了

一个精神变态的神:

我和公众都知道

所有的学童在学习什么,

对他们施以邪恶

他们就报以邪恶。

*【林茨是少年时期的希特勒就读中学的城市。】

Exiled Thucydides knew

All that a speech can say

About Democracy,

And what dictators do,

The elderly rubbish they talk

To an apathetic grave;

Analysed all in his book,

The enlightenment driven away,

The habit-forming pain,

Mismanagement and grief:

We must suffer them all again.

流亡的修昔底德清楚

一次演讲所能道出的

关于民主的一切,*1

以及独裁者的所为,

面对一座毫无知觉的坟墓

他们讲述陈词滥调;

他在著作中分析的一切,

被撵走的启蒙运动,

习惯性疼痛,

混乱的管理以及忧伤,

我们必须再度忍受。【胡桑、刘文飞等译】*2

*1【修昔底德在《伯罗奔尼撒战争史》当中记录了伯里克利宣扬民主制度的演讲。】

*2【日后奥登将会否认本诗以及其他四首政治诗歌。他要求任何诗集在收录这五首诗时都要添加以下附注:“W.H.奥登先生认为这五首诗是垃圾,他为自己创作了这些垃圾而感到羞耻。”】

帖:4543894 复 4344063
2020-08-09 20:31:51万年看客
2 十五,左派与右派1

现代主义者们一直都在招兵买马,也一直都在激励着英国诗坛——诺桑伯兰的诗人巴塞尔.邦廷直到六十年代还在创作相当可观的现代主义诗歌——但是对于两次大战间期的绝大多数英国诗人来说,他们的激励程度还是不太够。艾略特与庞德或许的确算得上此时英国诗坛的并立双峰,不仅受到知识界的追捧,而且名声还传播到了文学圈子以外的更广泛社会当中,但是在双峰脚下原本应当存在一批严肃读者的区域却几乎是一片空白。粗略来说有两样事物取代了现代主义诗歌。其一是社会主义政治抗议诗歌,由西班牙内战时期的诗人们集中体现;其次是主要由保守派诗人创作的观察诗歌,这批诗人将晦涩难懂的现代主义者们丢掉的读者群体分流了不少。

当时的人们惯于用一个大而化之的诨号来挖苦左派诗人,将他们一并称作“马克斯彭登戴”(MacSpaunday)——具体来说就是路易斯.马克尼斯、斯蒂芬.斯彭德、W.H.奥登以及塞西尔.戴-刘易斯这四个人的统称。无论是当时还是现在,奥登的名号都比其余三位高出了一层楼。如果说二十世纪中期还有几位英国诗人的作品过上几百年依然有人阅读,那么奥登肯定是其中之一。不过从另一方面来说,马克斯彭登戴也是一位辨识度极高的角色:此人下身穿着肥大的米色裤子,上身穿着粗花呢外套与开领衬衫,顶着一头乱发;他起初接受了公学教育,然后在剑桥深造,再然后就加入了英共;此外此人几乎一定是男同;他嗓音洪亮,举止自信,不过要是行事不够小心谨慎(尽管他通常总是很谨慎)很可能会为了支持共和派而牺牲在西班牙内战的战场上。

符合这一模式的第一位左派诗人是约翰.康福德。他生在剑桥,也在剑桥大学接受了高等教育。此人还是查尔斯.达尔文的玄外孙。他在本科没毕业时就加入了英共,并且无可救药地爱上了另一位年轻的共产主义学生玛戈.海涅曼。康福德长得一表人才,帅得令人窒息——当年的浪漫主义者们觉得法国大革命时期的共和主义令人心驰神往,同理,二三十年代时也有些人认为共产主义浪漫得不可救药。他赶赴西班牙,加入了信奉马克思主义但又反对斯大林的马克思主义工人党并且在战斗中牺牲。他最著名的诗作结构工整且充满美感,让人忍不住想象假如他能从战场归来的话原本可以创作出怎样的诗句。下面这首《致玛戈.海涅曼》(To Margot Heinemann)是他在西班牙战场上写给恋人的情书:

Heart of the heartless world,

Dear heart, the thought of you

Is the pain at my side,

The shadow that chills my view.

没有心的世界里的一颗心,

亲爱的心,只要将你想到

我就感到疼痛不止,

阴影将我的视野笼罩。

The wind rises in the evening,

Reminds that autumn's near.

I am afraid to lose you,

I am afraid of my fear.

夜间刮起的凉风,

让人想起抵近的秋意。

我害怕失去你,

我害怕自己的恐惧。

On the last mile to Huesca,

The last fence for our pride,

Think so kindly, dear, that I

Sense you at my side.

距离韦斯卡的最后一英里,

我的骄傲的最后一道屏障,

请和善地想到,亲爱的,

我感到你就在我心上。

And if bad luck should lay my strength

Into the shallow grave,

Remember all the good you can;

Don't forget my love.

若是厄运将我的气力

埋进浅坟,黄土掩盖,

请尽力记住我所有的好;

不要忘记我的爱。

仅从这首诗很难看出诗人诗歌马克思主义者,甚至都看不出他是个志愿兵。但是康福德也是一位犀利的战争诗人。下面这首《来自阿拉贡的信》(A Letter From Aragon)就是面向留在英国的左派人士的战斗动员:

This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.

这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。

We buried Ruiz in a new pine coffin,

But the shroud was too small and his washed feet stuck out.

The stink of his corpse came through the clean pine boards

And some of the bearers wrapped handkerchiefs round their faces.

Death was not dignified.

We hacked a ragged grave in the unfriendly earth

And fired a ragged volley over the grave.

我们用一口新打的松木棺材埋葬了鲁兹,

但是裹尸布太小,他洗净的双脚露了出来。

他的尸臭透出了干净的松木板,

有几位抬棺人用手帕裹住了脸。

死亡并不体面。

我们在不友好的土地上挖了一个乱七八糟的坟坑,

又围着坟坑乱七八糟地鸣枪一轮。

You could tell from our listlessness, no one much missed him.

从我们的无精打采可以看出,谁也不太怀念他。

This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.

There is no poison gas and no H. E.

这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。

这里没有毒气也没有高爆炸药。

But when they shelled the other end of the village

And the streets were choked with dust

Women came screaming out of the crumbling houses,

Clutched under one arm the naked rump of an infant.

I thought: how ugly fear is.

但是当他们炮击村庄的另一头

街道上尘土飞扬令人窒息

女人们尖叫着从摇摇欲坠的房屋里跑出来,

一条胳膊下面还夹着婴儿的光屁股。

我心想:恐惧多么丑陋。

This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.

Our nerves are steady; we all sleep soundly.

这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。

我们的神经很稳健;我们都睡得很沉。

In the clean hospital bed, my eyes were so heavy

Sleep easily blotted out one ugly picture,

A wounded militiaman moaning on a stretcher,

Now out of danger, but still crying for water,

Strong against death, but unprepared for such pain.

在医院的洁净病床上,我的眼皮很沉

睡眠轻易地阻挡了一幅丑陋的画面,

一名受伤的民兵在担架上呻吟,

并非因为危险,而是痛叫着讨口水喝,

他很强壮,一时死不了,但是并未准备好经受此等痛苦。

This on a quiet front.

这是一条寂静的前线。

But when I shook hands to leave, an Anarchist worker

Said: 'Tell the workers of England

This was a war not of our own making

We did not seek it.

But if ever the Fascists again rule Barcelona

It will be as a heap of ruins with us workers beneath it.'

但是当我与他们握手准备离开时,一名无政府主义工人

对我说:“告诉英国的工人们

这场战争并非由我们招致

我们不想打这一仗。

但是假如法西斯分子还想再次统治巴塞罗那

这城市将会化作一片掩埋我们工人的废墟。”

对于今天的读者们来说,这首诗当中的英雄主义口吻听上去或许有点可笑,但这就是当年的时代精神。当年的左派一方面对于盛行于欧陆的法西斯主义抱有近乎歇斯底里的恐惧(而且事实也证明了这份恐惧的确很有道理),另一方面又对俄国共产主义革命抱有天真的热情,却并不知道或者并不想知道斯大林治下的俄国究竟发生了什么。下面这首《铁尔斯的满月》(Full Moon At Tierz)是康福德笔下马克思主义思想最明确的作品,充分表达了诗人的理念:人类历史如今已经走到了转折点:

The past, a glacier, gripped the mountain wall,

And time was inches, dark was all.

But here it scales the end of the range,

The dialectic's point of change,

Crashes in light and minutes to its fall.

过去如同冰川,紧攥着山岩峭壁,

时间寸步向前,黑暗无边无际。

但是在这里它称量着界限的终点,

辩证对立的转折点,

冲进光明,不出几分钟就要坠落下去。

Time present is a cataract whose force

Breaks down the banks even at its source

And history forming in our hands

Not plasticine but roaring sands,

Yet we must swing it to its final course.

当前的时间宛如飞瀑千丈

在源头就有冲垮河岸的力量

历史正在我们手中成型确立

不是橡皮泥,却是呼啸的沙粒,

我们却必须将其抛向最终的方向。

The intersecting lines that cross both ways,

Time future, has no image in space,

Crooked as the road that we must tread,

Straight as our bullets fly ahead.

We are the future. The last fight let us face.

交叉的线条穿过了两个方向,

时间与未来,在空间当中没有图像,

曲折得就像我们必须践行的道路,

笔直得就像我们的子弹飞向远处。

我们就是未来,让我们直面最后一仗。

帖:4543808 复 4344063
2020-08-09 20:28:13万年看客
2 现代主义者们有多么现代?4

在我们离开现代主义者们之前,还有另一位与麦克迪尔米德截然不同的诗人不得不提。戴维.赫伯特.劳伦斯也是工人阶级出身,来自一户诺丁汉郡矿工家庭。如今提起他的名字,读者们首先会想到他的小说,不过他也是一名优秀的诗人以及比较一般的画家。身为小说家与画家的劳伦斯很难算是现代主义者。正当詹姆斯.乔伊斯忙着重塑语言、弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙忙着摸索意识流写作技术时,D.H.劳伦斯的小说却坚守着传统套路,从形式上来看并不比托马斯.哈代当年的作品更激进。他的画作也是传统的表现型作品,尽管技法有些笨拙。之所以他的作品能与现代二字沾边是因为他的创作题材:他的小说直言不讳地描写了性行为,他的画作不加掩饰地描绘了性感裸体。弗洛伊德及其追随者们揭示的全新性与道德世界对于艾略特、庞德以及麦克迪尔米德来说并不算特别要紧——这三位的侧重点都在于政治——可是劳伦斯则不然。

劳伦斯也觉得战后文化腐朽败坏,但是他并没有向外界寻找宗教或者政治答案,而是将目光转向了内心,寻求纯正的情感与性欲,以期这两者能够解放他自己。一定程度上说,他的诗歌与他的小说绘画一脉相承,不过感情要比小说更强烈,内容则不如绘画那样露骨。就算是现代主义诗人也不用在一切方面都奉行现代主义。麦克迪尔米德的《醉汉看蓟草》不仅韵脚工整,而且四行一节,十分传统;这首诗的现代主义特质体现在思想与措辞方面。劳伦斯虽然惯于创作无韵诗,但是他的行文同样很常规;反常规的地方在于他的选材。与一般的世俗肉感相比,他的诗歌腔调并没有那么性感,更没有那么色情。劳伦斯尤其与动植物的世界感同身受,他在这方面的创作方式也为英语诗歌带来了新气象。他的最著名作品之一是《巴伐利亚龙胆》(Bavarian Gentians)。没有这首诗开路,很难想象日后会出现泰德.休斯与西尔维娅.普拉斯那样的诗人。早先世代的英国人或许会觉得劳伦斯在这里宣扬的感觉实在太丢人,必须藏着掖着:

Not every man has gentians in his house

in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas.

并非每人家中都有龙胆

在柔软的九月,在缓慢而又悲哀的圣米迦勒节。

Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark

darkening the daytime torchlike with the smoking blueness of Pluto's gloom,

ribbed and torchlike, with their blaze of darkness spread blue

down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day

torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,

black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,

giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off light,

lead me then, lead me the way.

巴伐利亚的龙胆,硕大而黑暗,唯有黑暗

如同火炬一般染黑了白昼,凭借冒烟幽蓝,源自普路托的忧郁

缀以棱线,火炬一般,黑暗中的火焰蓝幽幽地延伸

被压扁成许多点,被白色日间的扫荡压扁,

火炬一样的花朵,冒着蓝烟的黑暗,普路托的深蓝色的眩晕,

狄斯大厅里的黑灯,燃起深蓝,

黑暗流泻,深蓝色的黑暗,就像得墨忒耳的苍白灯火发光,

指引我吧,给我引路。

Reach me a gentian, give me a torch

let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower

down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness.

even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September

to the sightless realm where darkness was awake upon the dark

and Persephone herself is but a voice

or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark

of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom,

among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on the lost bride and groom.

递给我一支龙胆,递给我一支火炬,

让我用这支花的叉状蓝色火炬引导自己

走下更暗更暗的台阶,蓝色越发深沉。

甚至到珀尔塞福涅前去的地方去,就在此刻,从降霜的九月

前往全无视觉的王国,那里的黑暗在黑暗中苏醒过来,

就连珀耳塞福涅自己也只是一个声音,

或是看不见的黑暗,被包容在冥王怀抱里

更深的黑暗中,并被浓密幽暗的激情射穿,

周遭是黑暗火炬的灿烂光华,

撒下黑暗遮蔽了失落的新娘和她的新郎。【参考了吴笛的译文】

这首诗的形式很古典,题材则是蓝色的花朵。但是诗文的笔调却极其狂暴,主题则是强奸。劳伦斯的另一首名诗《蛇》(Snake)当中的性意象要明确得多。此前的英国人或许像他一样想过,但是肯定没有像他一样写过。从字面上看,这首诗平铺直叙地描写了诗人与一条口渴的蛇之间的碰面,但是劳伦斯却挑战读者们全身心投入这首诗当中,从而承认我们所有人都知道但却很少讨论的事实:

A snake came to my water-trough

On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,

To drink there.

一条蛇来到我的水槽

在一个炎炎夏日,我着一身睡衣,

前来饮水

In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree

I came down the steps with my pitcher

And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough

before me.

茂密角豆树的浓荫散发着异香,在树荫遮蔽下

我提着水罐走下台阶

我必须等待,必须等待,因为他来到水槽边

比我更早。

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom

And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over

the edge of the stone trough

And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,

And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,

He sipped with his straight mouth,

Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,

Silently.

他从幽暗土墙的缝隙中俯下身子

拖着他那松弛的黄褐色软腹缓缓爬下,越过

石槽的边缘

他将喉咙置于石头底部

水龙头的水一滴滴地清脆坠下

他轻轻啜饮,用垂直的嘴

水经由他整齐的牙床,流入松弛的长长身躯,此时他

默不作声

Someone was before me at my water-trough,

And I, like a second-comer, waiting.

某人先于我来到水槽边

而我,仿佛一个后来者,等待着。

He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,

And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,

And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused

a moment,

And stooped and drank a little more,

Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels

of the earth

On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.

他从水槽抬起头来,就像一头牲口,

呆滞地盯着我,就像一头喝水的牲口,

他吐着信子,信子忽隐忽现,凝视我

片刻

然后俯下身子,继续饮水

他通身土褐和土金色,来自燃烧的

大地深处,

在西西里七月的这天,埃特纳火山依然冒着烟。

The voice of my education said to me

He must be killed,

For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold

are venomous.

我所接受的教育嘱咐我

我必须要将他杀死

因为在西西里黑色的蛇无害,而金色的蛇

有毒。

And voices in me said, If you were a man

You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

我脑中的众多声音对我说,如果你是一个男子汉

就该拿起棍棒打断他,杀死他。

But must I confess how I liked him,

How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink

at my water-trough

And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,

Into the burning bowels of this earth?

然而我必须承认,我十分喜欢他

我多么高兴,他曾像宾客一样安静地来到我的家门,来到

我的水槽边饮水

然后再悄然离去,不谢一语,

返回到燃烧的大地肚肠?

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?

Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?

Was it humility, to feel so honoured?

I felt so honoured.

是不是出于懦弱,我不敢把他杀死?

是不是出于堕落,我盼望与他交谈?

是不是羞辱,我竟然感到光荣?

我感到如此光荣。

And yet those voices:

If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

然而,又传出了声音:

“假若你不害怕,你就得把他处死!”

And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,

But even so, honoured still more

That he should seek my hospitality

From out the dark door of the secret earth.

我的确感到畏惧,异常畏惧

即便如此,我仍感到荣幸

因为他走出了神秘大地的幽暗之门

前来寻求我的好客之情。

He drank enough

And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,

And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,

Seeming to lick his lips,

And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,

And slowly turned his head,

And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,

Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round

And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

他饮饱了水

抬起头,神情恍惚,像个醉酒之人

那忽隐忽现的信子如此之黑,像空中分叉的黑夜

他似乎在舔舐嘴唇

像神灵一样,视而不见地环顾四周

他缓缓转过头去

缓缓地,仿佛进入三重幽梦

开始拖曳长长的、绕成曲线的躯体,

又爬上了破裂的墙面。

And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,

And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders,

and entered farther,

A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into

that horrid black hole,

Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing

himself after,

Overcame me now his back was turned.

他将头伸进那可怖的洞穴

以蛇的方式慢慢拉直身体,放松肩膀,

再继续进洞,

我突然心生恐惧,心生抗议,就在他撤回

可怖的无底黑洞时,

在他从容地驶入黑暗,缓慢地拖着

他的身躯

背对着我,而我则难以自禁。

I looked round, I put down my pitcher,

I picked up a clumsy log

And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

我环视四周,我放下水罐,

我捡起笨重的木头,

啪地一声砸向水槽。

I think it did not hit him,

But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed

in an undignified haste,

Writhed like lightning, and was gone

Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,

At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

我想我并未击中他,

然而他洞外的身躯突然剧烈抽搐

惊惶而仓促

闪电般一扭,随即踪迹全无

消失在幽暗的无底黑洞里,隐没在墙面的缝隙中,

在炎热又静寂的正午,我望着黑洞几近痴迷。

And immediately I regretted it.

I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!

I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

我即刻便懊悔不已。

我的行为是如此卑鄙,如此粗俗,如此低劣!

我憎恨我自己,憎恨可恶的人类教育的声音。

And I thought of the albatross,

And I wished he would come back, my snake.

我回想起了信天翁的故事。

我希望他能够回来,我的蛇呀。

For he seemed to me again like a king,

Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,

Now due to be crowned again.

因为于我而言,他像是一个君主

一个被放逐的君主,幽暗世界的无冕之王

现在是给他重新加冕的时候了

And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords

Of life.

And I have something to expiate:

A pettiness.

就这样,我错失了与一位生命之主

交往的际遇。

而我必须赎罪:

罪名是偏狭。【吴笛、庞红蕊等译】

笔者在本章当中介绍的诗人除了休.麦克迪尔米德之外全都没有亲眼见过一战战场。但是战争本身以及战争对于西方文化的显著影响却改变了他们所有人。他们每个人都经受了绝望,应对绝望的方式则各不相同。T.S.艾略特基本上无视了战争并且狂热地——倒不是说他狂热的样子有多么可信——拥抱了英格兰特质与圣公会信仰。庞德、洛伊与劳伦兹则全都选择了背井离乡,各自前往了法西斯治下的意大利、新墨西哥州与曼哈顿,总之就是不在英国呆着。唯有麦克迪尔米德不仅留在了英国,还试图对一战进行政治回应。搞政治并不是现代主义的做法,但却是下一代诗人当中最流行的做法。我们接下来就去看看这些二十世纪三十年代的政治诗人。

帖:4543807 复 4344063
2020-08-04 05:08:17万年看客
2 现代主义者们有多么现代?3

休.麦克迪尔米德肯定理解这一点。他是工人阶级出身,父亲是邮递员。休.麦克迪尔米德这个名字是他的笔名或者说化名,他的原名是克里斯托弗.莫里.格里夫,生在苏格兰与英格兰的边界附近。他也在一战战场上走过一遭,亲眼见证了苏格兰与爱尔兰裔士兵与公学出身的英格兰军官之间的紧张关系。后来的格里夫成为了一名记者与论辩家,坚信苏格兰必须要从大英帝国当中脱离出去并且从根本上采取社会主义制度。他那臭名昭著的共产主义信仰致使苏民党将他扫地出门,他那臭名昭著的苏格兰民族主义又致使英共也将他扫地出门。他承诺自己永远都会是“各种极端的交汇点”,这个承诺他的确恪守了一生。

T.S.艾略特将早期基督教诗歌当成了自己的现代主义作品的基础,庞德选择的基础则是中文、普罗旺斯语以及盎撒文学。麦克迪尔米德则决心要砸烂文学英语,利用他在旧字典里刨出来的冷僻苏格兰语取而代之。他认为现已失落的古老苏格兰方言单词蕴含着不同的思考方式与世界观,而他则要将这两者重现在现代苏格兰读者面前。就像许多极端现代主义理念一样,他的主张看上去也毫无胜算——甚至近乎疯狂——但是在大多数时间里麦克迪尔米德都是一副赢家的姿态。他肯定创作了自从罗伯特.彭斯之后最出色的苏格兰诗歌,而且他还掀起了一场运动,激励许多苏格兰诗人追随他的榜样并且创作出了各具特色的作品。于是苏格兰自从十五世纪以来再一次成为了英国诗歌的中心。以下是麦克迪尔米德的早期诗作《彩虹》(The Watergaw)。原诗以苏格兰方言写成,若是翻译成标准英语必然韵律全失。

Ae weet forenicht i’ the yow-trummle

I saw yon antrin thing,

A watergaw wi’ its chitterin’ licht

Ayont the on-ding;

An’ I thocht o’ the last wild look ye gied

Afore ye deed!

潮湿的午后,冰凉的天气,

我看见了奇异的你,

彩虹带着颤抖的光线

升起在暴风雨之巅。

你临终狂野的眼神

又回到我的记忆。

There was nae reek i’ the laverock’s hoose

That nicht—an’ nane i’ mine;

But I hae thocht o’ that foolish licht

Ever sin’ syne;

An’ I think that mebbe at last I ken

What your look meant then.

那夜天空万里无云

我家也同样漆黑;

但是我从此总是记起

那愚蠢的光线;

我以为自己终于明白

你眼神的意义。【张剑译】

麦克迪尔米德还创作了许多水准与这首诗不相上下的优秀短诗。就好比叶芝在十九世纪九十年代试图复兴爱尔兰文学一样,麦克迪尔米德也试图以自己的方式复兴苏格兰文学并且取得了远超叶芝的成功。身为保守派英国天主教信徒的T.S.艾略特虽然在几乎一切政治议题上都与麦克迪尔米德针锋相对,但他确实看懂了麦克迪尔米德的文学主张并且很推崇对方的作品。多亏艾略特从中相助,麦克迪尔米德的早期长诗《醉汉看蓟草》(A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle)才在1926年得以顺利发表。本诗的主人公是一位醉醺醺的业余哲学家,诗歌内容则是此人针对苏格兰的现状的思考。他先是在酒馆里发表了一番高论,然后又担心回家之后老婆会说什么。麦克迪尔米德对于苏格兰文化的看法就像几年前艾略特对于英格兰文化的看法一样惨淡,他的心境则与叶芝在同一时期对于新近独立的爱尔兰的感受一样五味杂陈。他笔下的醉汉扯东扯西,从哲学聊到尖刻的政治讽刺,然后又转向了自我憎恨,骇人的主张后面紧跟着搞笑的桥段。以下诗文节选自全诗开头,向读者们介绍了这位精疲力尽的发言人。他的朋友们正在怂恿他大口灌下威士忌,而他的手肘、肩膀与咽喉已经应付不了如此狂饮了。话又说回来,当时他喝得大概并不是正宗威士忌——就好像被人们称作苏格兰的国家并不是正宗苏格兰一样:

I amna' fou' sae muckle as tired — deid dune.

It's gey and hard wark' coupin' gless for gless

Wi' Cruivie and Gilsanquhar and the like,

And I'm no' juist as bauld as aince I wes.

我醉,但我更累——我精疲力竭。

与克鲁维和吉森卡尔之流饮酒,

一杯又一杯,真乃快活又难受。

我不仅仅是比以前更加胆大如斗。

The elbuck fankles in the coorse o' time,

The sheckle's no' sae souple, and the thrapple

Grows deef and dour: nae langer up and doun

Gleg as a squirrel speils the Adam's apple.

在此过程中,胳膊肘变得僵硬,

手腕也不灵活,气管变得沙哑

而僵直。喉结也不能动弹,不会

像松鼠一般灵活地上下攀爬。

Forbye, the stuffie's no' the real Mackay.

The sun's sel' aince, as sune as ye began it,

Riz in your vera saul: but what keeks in

Noo is in truth the vilest " saxpenny planet. "

另外,那玩艺也不是真正的麦凯酒,

你沾上它的初始,太阳本身

仍在你灵魂中升起:但是后来

在那里闪耀的却是一颗最廉价的星辰。

And as the worth's gane doun the cost has risen.

Yin canna thow the cockles o' yin's hert

Wi'oot ha'en' cauld feet noo, jalousin' what

The wife'll say (I dinna blame her fur't).

虽然价值降低,但价格却在上涨。

现在你如要将内心深处加热,

你必须保持双脚冰凉,去揣测

妻子的想法(我并不是在将她数落)。

It's robbin' Peter to pey Paul at least. . . .

And a' that's Scotch aboot it is the name,

Like a' thing else ca'd Scottish nooadays

— A' destitute o' speerit juist the same.

这至少是拆了东墙去补西墙……

酒的苏格兰精神仅仅存于其名,

就像其他被称为苏格兰货的东西,

同样完全丧失了它的灵魂。【张剑译,有修改】

麦克迪尔米德与许多其他现代主义者相比的不同之处在于他不止一次、而是两次改造了诗歌创作的语言。约翰.戴维森将科学知识应用于诗歌的做法对于麦克迪尔米德影响很大,此外他本人毕生都充满热情地关注着二十世纪科学开辟的崭新视角。因此他用来写诗的语言也逐渐从苏格兰方言转换成了英语科学术语。这些诗歌在大多数读者眼里乍一看简直一窍不通,但是读起来却朗朗上口——而且只要将其中的术语全都替换成日常白话,诗句的意义自然显而易见。就像上文中的苏格兰与诗歌一样,这些科学术语诗歌同样不可能以任何其他方式写作出来——读者不熟悉的单词本身就是暗藏意义的密码。以下诗文节选自《在涨潮的海滩上》(On a Raised Beach),是麦克迪尔米德在二十世纪三十年代的代表作,彰显了诗人坚忍叛逆的气质。当时他身无分文,居住在远离本土的设得兰群岛,而且军情五处还在监视他的一举一动,因为在当局看来他是个危险的激进分子。

All is lithogenesis—or lochia,

Carpolite fruit of the forbidden tree,

Stones blacker than any in the Caaba,

Cream-coloured caen-stone, chatoyant pieces,

Celadon and corbeau, bistre and beige,

Glaucous, hoar, enfouldered, cyathiform,

Making mere faculae of the sun and moon,

I study you glout and gloss, but have

No cadrans to adjust you with, and turn again

From optik to haptik and like a blind man run

My fingers over you, arris by arris, burr by burr,

Slickensides, truité, rugas, foveoles,

Bringing my aesthesis in vain to bear,

An angle-titch to all your corrugations and coigns,

Hatched foraminous cavo-rilievo of the world,

Deictic, fiducial stones. Chiliad by chiliad

What bricole piled you here, stupendous cairn?

What artist poses the Earth écorché thus,

Pillar of creation engouled in me?

What eburnation augments you with men’s bones,

Every energumen an Endymion yet?

All the other stones are in this haecceity it seems,

But where is the Christophanic rock that moved?

What Cabirian song from this catasta comes?

一切都是成岩作用——或者是产后出血,

禁忌之树的化石化果实,

石头比天房里的一切更黑。

奶油色的卡昂石灰岩,猫眼石的碎片。

青瓷和乌鸦,黄褐与米色。

海绿,灰白,周身闪电,如同杯状。

使日月都沦为光斑。

我研究你的蹙眉与神色,但是

没有表盘来调整你,并再次

从视觉转向触觉,像盲人一样

用我的手指丈量你的身体,每一道棱角,每一根毛刺。

擦痕,开片,皱褶,凹坑,

让我的美学徒劳无功,

为你的所有槽纹与凸角提供一点角度,

孵化的开孔的世界的陷浮雕,

指示,基准石。一千又一千

是什么杂物把你堆在这里,堆成巨大的石冢?

是哪位艺术家摆布了剥皮露骨的地球,

让创世之柱从我口中穿出?

是什么象牙化利用男人的骨头壮大了你,

每一位被附身的人是否都成了恩底弥翁?

其他的石头似乎都在这独一性当中。

但是,那块基督再现时移开的巨石在哪里?

从处刑台上传来的虫鸣歌声是什么?

这段诗文简直有点存心刁难读者的意思。但是如果大声朗读出来却又会有不一样的感受。接下来的两句承接诗文看上去简直就像是道歉:

Deep conviction or preference can seldom

Find direct terms in which to express itself.

深深的信念或喜好很少能够

找到直接的词汇来表达自己。

在人生的日后阶段里,麦克迪尔米德确实会采用直白措辞创作一目了然、近乎宣传品的诗歌来反映苏格兰的状况、法西斯主义的崛起以及其他各种社会现象。他发现现代主义并不足以应对身边的一切状况,因为三十年代的世界看上去正变得越发黑暗且危险。我们将会在下文中看到,这么想的人绝不只有他一个。

帖:4541863 复 4344063
2020-08-05 00:42:21
桥上
3 “读者不熟悉的单词本身就是暗藏意义的密码”,有点吓人

帖:4542101 复 4541863
2020-08-04 04:19:20万年看客
2 现代主义者们有多么现代?2

认为庞德至少在技巧上比自己更胜一筹的T.S.艾略特也是美国移民,不过他选择了一条截然不同的人生道路。他在英格兰扎根下来,最终变得比大多数英国人更像英国人。随着庞德转向法西斯主义,骨子里同样反犹的艾略特则转向了英国国教会与伟大的英国诗歌传统来寻求救赎。这位曾经的银行家后来成为了一名专门创作宗教剧本的体面人,但是他在早期创作的现代主义作品在问世时却令人惊骇不已,至今依然能让初次接触的读者们感到大惑不解。《普鲁弗洛克的情歌》(The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)发表于1915年,兴许是理解早期英国现代主义的最关键文本。艾略特凭借这首诗立刻确立了不容错认的个人风格,一方面采用了娓娓道来的口吻,同时又尽显古典气质。在诗文当中,他笔下的反英雄——没用或者不必存在的人是现代主义世界观的主粮——在显然属于爱德华时代的伦敦城里漫无目的地闲逛着:

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

那我们走吧,你和我,

当夜晚在天空铺开,

像病人被麻醉在手术台;

让我们走,穿过几近荒废的街道,

不安的夜晚的嘟囔退到了

只会歇一晚的便宜旅馆

和满地锯末与蚌壳的饭馆:

街道尾随像一场冗长的争论,

带着阴险的企图

把你带向一个无法回避的问题……

啊,别问,“那是什么?”

让我们走,先去做客。

客厅里女士们来回地踱步,

谈论着米开朗基罗。

黄色的雾在玻璃上擦它的背,

黄色的烟在玻璃上擦它的嘴,

舌头舔进夜晚的角落,

徘徊在快要干涸的水坑;

听任烟筒上的烟灰跌落在背上,

它溜下台阶,纵身一跃,

看到这是一个温柔的十月之夜,

便在房子周围蜷缩起来呼呼入睡。

确实啊,总会有时间,

让黄雾沿着街道滑行,

在玻璃窗上擦它的背;

总会有时间,总会有时间

准备一幅面孔去见你要见的脸;

总会有时间去暗杀去创造,

去从事无数双手的工作和时日,

从茶盘上拿起又放下一个问题;

总会有时间给你,有时间给我

总会有时间一百次地迟疑犹豫,

总会有时间一百次地幻象再幻变,

在吃茶和烤面包之前。

客厅里女士们来回地踱步,

谈论着米开朗基罗。

确实,总会有时间

去怀疑,“我敢吗?”“我可有勇气?”

总会有时间转身下楼,

顶着一块秃顶——

(她们会说:“他的头发变得多么稀少!”)

我早晨的外套,我的硬领笔挺,

我的领带华丽而端庄,被一只朴素的别针定住——

(她们会说:“但他的胳膊腿可太细了!”)

我可有勇气

搅乱这个宇宙?

一分钟内总还有时间

决定、变卦,一分钟内再转变修改。【普华译】

《普鲁弗洛克的情歌》是一首特别困难的诗歌,彰显了艾略特的变化多端与格律技艺。正是这两样本领让他在日后成为了一名杰出的儿歌作家——《擅长装扮的老猫经》就是这其中传世不朽的杰作之一。但是《普》在刚刚问世时却掀起了轩然大波,因为这首诗读起来实在……太不一样了。接下来艾略特又推出了一系列佳作,格律严丝合缝,题材骇人听闻。但是他笔下的最重量级作品——之所以1922年对于现代主义发展史来说是一个如此重要的年份,部分原因就在于这首诗的问世——就是《荒原》(The Waste Land)。这部煌煌巨作就像当年华兹华斯与柯勒律治的《抒情歌谣集》一样,再一次彻底变革了英国诗坛的面貌。在绘画领域,毕加索、布拉克与库尔特.施威特斯很早以前就开始使用拼贴画技法——既将剪报、撕碎的广告纸以及各种各样的商业产品粘贴在画面上,为自己的画作蒙上一层粗粝的表面。艾略特的诗歌也采用了同样的创作手法,将他人对话当中传出的只言片语、突然中断的独白以及显然充满古代智慧的瘆人叠句强硬压缩在了一起。诗歌的主题是西方文化的死寂干涸以及寻找前进新路的求索——后面这条直到全诗结尾才试探性地提出来,而且基督教气息很重。诗句听上去似乎无甚趣味,但是诗人的措辞花团锦簇,他对于英语诗歌的历史理解得十分透彻,他还具有非凡的格律才华,能让读者着魔一般地不忍释卷。以下诗文节选自全诗第一节“死者的葬礼”。当时在伦敦金融城为劳埃德银行工作的艾略特在这段诗文当中直面了当代伦敦的日常景象:

Unreal City,

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,

A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,

I had not thought death had undone so many.

Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,

And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.

Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,

To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours

With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying “Stetson!

You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!

That corpse you planted last year in your garden,

Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?

Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,

Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!

You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”

不真实的城,

在冬天早晨棕黄色的雾下,

一群人流过伦敦桥,呵,这么多

我没有想到死亡毁灭了这么多。

叹息,隔一会短短地嘘出来,

每个人的目光都盯着自己的脚。

流上小山,流下威廉王大街,

直到圣玛丽.乌尔诺教堂,在那里

大钟正沉沉桥着九点的最后一响。

那儿我遇到一个熟人,喊住他道:

“史太森!你记得我们在麦来船上!

去年你种在你的花园里的尸首,

它发芽了吗?今年能开花吗?

还是突然霜冻搅乱了它的花床?

哦,千万把狗撵开,那是人类之友,

不然他会用爪子又把它掘出来!

你呀,伪善的读者- -一我的同类,我的兄弟!”【查良铮译】

《荒原》一诗不通读不足以领略其真正风采,可惜本书篇幅所限不能照搬全文。笔者接下来摘取的选段来自第二节《一局棋戏》,艾略特在其中让一大堆看似八竿子打不着的题材相撞在了一起,包括没有实体的警告叠句、日常对话的碎片、爵士音乐、一名等待丈夫退伍回家的工人阶级妻子的凄苦境遇,以及一家即将关门倒闭的酒馆。

“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.

Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.

What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?

I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

I think we are in rats’ alley

Where the dead men lost their bones.

“What is that noise?”

The wind under the door.

“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”

Nothing again nothing.

“Do

You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember

Nothing?”

I remember

Those are pearls that were his eyes.

“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

But

O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—

It’s so elegant

So intelligent

“What shall I do now? What shall I do?

I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street

With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?

What shall we ever do?”

The hot water at ten.

And if it rains, a closed car at four.

And we shall play a game of chess,

Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said,

I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself,

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.

He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you

To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.

You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,

He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.

And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,

He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,

And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.

Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said.

Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

“我今晚情绪不好。呵,很坏。陪着我。

跟我说话吧。怎么不说呢?说呵。

你在想什么?什么呀?我 从不知你想着什么。想。”

我想我们是在耗子洞里,

死人在这里丢了骨头。

“那是什么声音?”

是门洞下的风。

“那又是什么声音?风在干什么?”

虚空,还是虚空。

“你

什么也不知道?什么也没看见?什么

也不记得?”

我记得

那些明珠曾经是他的眼睛。

“你是活是死?你的头脑里什么也没有?”

可是

呵呵呵呵那莎士比希亚小调——

这么文雅

这么聪明

“如今我做什么好?我做什么好?”

“我要这样冲出去,在大街上走,

披着头发,就这样。我们明天干什么?

我们究竟干什么?”

十点钟要热水。

若是下雨,四点钟要带篷的车。

我们将下一盘棋,

揉了难合的眼,等着叩门的一声。

丽尔的男人退伍的时候,我说——

我可是直截了当,我自己对她说的,

快走吧,到时候了

艾伯特要回来了,你得打扮一下。

他要问你他留下的那笔镶牙的钱

是怎么用的。他给时,我也在场。

把牙都拔掉吧,丽尔,换一副好的。

他说,看你那样子真叫人受不了。

连我也受不了,我说,你替艾伯特想想,

他当兵四年啦,他得找点乐趣,

如果你不给他,还有别人呢,我说。

呵,是吗,她说。差不多吧,我说。

那我知道该谢谁啦,她说,直看着我。

快走吧,到时候了【查良铮译】

这段诗文可谓是近乎取得了完全成功的现代主义诗歌,威胁与绝望潜藏在字里行间,反映了被过去十年剧烈震撼的英国的面貌;诗中人的口吻听上去与1922年的伦敦市民一般无二,市民们的日常关切也得到了详尽呈现;此外鉴于此时掌权的劳合.乔治首相贪污腐败,与诈骗犯以及涉嫌杀人犯毛迪.格里高利沆瀣一气售卖贵族头衔,诗文当中的阴险气息也很符合时代精神。尽管艾略特的心可能还在故乡波士顿,但是他对于当时英国的理解却比任何本土英国人更加深刻到位。作为对比,来自这首非凡诗歌的最后一段摘录是全诗第四节《水里的死亡》。笔者在上文中指出,为了寻找更强健的文脉,现代主义者们将视线投向了极其遥远的过去。以下诗文就是绝好的例子,遥遥呼应了莎士比亚的《暴风雨》。

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,

Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell

And the profit and loss.

A current under sea

Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell

He passed the stages of his age and youth

Entering the whirlpool.

Gentile or Jew

O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,

Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

扶里巴斯,那腓尼基人,死了两星期,

他忘了海鸥的啼唤,深渊里的巨浪,

利润和损失。

海底的--股洋流

低语着啄他的骨头。就在一起一落时光

他经历了苍老和青春的阶段

而进入旋涡。

犹太或非犹太人呵.

你们转动轮盘和观望风向的,

想想他,也曾象你们一样漂亮而高大。【查良铮译】

下文当中我们还会再次与艾略特打交道。他的诗文如此强大且富有感染力,以至于二十世纪二三十年代的英国诗选当中充斥着才气不足的诗人们东施效颦的仿作。现代主义意味着与无数传统的决裂,做到这一点需要非凡的勇气。为了创新,每一位现代主义者都必须独辟蹊径。世上最乏味的东西就是亦步亦趋的文学革命。

帖:4541852 复 4344063
2020-07-31 05:35:19万年看客
2 十四,现代主义者们有多么现代?1

诸多挺胸叠肚昂首阔步的学术名词虽说听上去十分高大上,但是如果趁这些名词上街遛弯时将它们拦在当场诘问一番,它们的表现则往往不尽如人意。现代主义就是这批名词当中的一员。但是这个词确实很有用,根基也很深。在一战前后,欧洲与美国都掀起了一阵针对传统艺术原则与习惯的反思。仅就英国而言,除了一战带来的大量死亡与伤残人员之外,我们还经历了爱尔兰内战以及大规模罢工与失业;自劳合.乔治往下,英国的整个政治阶层看上去全都腐败堕落老迈无能;针对传统婚姻观念的冲击以及女性争取恰当社会地位的运动更是将英国社会搅得动荡不宁。上述危机与难题的许多乃至全部侧面都通过这一时期的英国诗歌得到了体现。这一时期几乎每一位英国诗人最终都会亮明自己的政治站位——有些人选择了共产主义,有些人选择了法西斯主义,还有些人选择了民族主义。英国诗坛就此再一次改头换面。无论是从美国进口的埃兹拉.庞德与T.S.艾略特,还是人到老年越发成熟的叶芝,又或是苏格兰本土出品的休.麦克迪尔米德,他们在这一时期创作的诗篇看起来听上去都与从前的作品大相径庭。显然,此时的诗人已经不打算再向爱德华时代、维多利亚时代乃至浪漫主义时代寻求灵感了。

为什么会这样?这就又要提到现代主义这位滑不留手的顾客。现代主义具有许多面孔——它比此前的诗坛运动更加城市化,宗教与道德意味更弱,而且也更加困难。不过从本质上来说,现代主义试图回答以下问题:如果说时代已经改变得面目全非,如果说革命气息正在风中飘荡而且旧秩序已经摇摇欲坠,那么艺术难道不应该也经历一番激烈变革吗?新时代难道不应该搭配新诗歌吗?

说来容易做来难。显然,许多老式诗歌范式已经被穷尽了——这其中有些范式讲究雕琢,将诗句当成了精美的油画,画面上则是精心打理过后的田园风情;有些范式讲究音韵,抑扬顿挫宛如协奏曲一般繁复;有些范式讲究格律,一字一句严丝合缝,题材大抵是感怀恋爱不顺或者歌颂帝国军队。在年轻且愤怒的现代主义者眼中,这些无非都是装点虚饰。为了创作新时代的杰作,必须要以暴戾愤怒的姿态将浪漫的牧人、欢快的诗句以及道德高尚的桂冠诗人一扫而空打翻在地。例如埃兹拉.庞德就公然号召自己的追随者们“求新”。

可是麻烦之处在于,旧范式也包括了诸如节律与天然笔触在内的一整套创作技法,这些技法全都是历经千百年无数世代逐渐摸索改进之后的成果。总的来说,这些技法的确能够充分表达诗人的理念。如果真要另起炉灶另开张,接下来的新诗歌究竟要如何下笔呢?

求新——如何求新?拿什么求新?现代主义者们给出了一个极其吊诡的回答:往回求。你要一头扎进远比你所反动的故事与形式更加古老的时代。于是毕加索在巴黎开始绘制取材古典时代的漫画式沐浴裸女以及效仿安格尔的素描;卡西米尔.马列维奇在莫斯科将目光转向了最古老的俄罗斯造像,从它们那毫无修饰的几何造型当中寻求灵感;詹姆斯.乔伊斯在都柏林与巴黎改写了尤利西斯归乡的故事,将其作为自己的长篇小说的结构装置。在诗歌领域情况也是一样:埃兹拉.庞德将寻求全新写作手法的目光转向了法国吟游诗人、盎格鲁-萨克逊歌谣以及中国古典诗歌,叶芝大量采用了拜占庭与爱尔兰神话当中的意象;T.S.艾略特迷上了玄学派诗人、但丁以及早期基督教诗歌,由此向自己的新诗赋予了多种声音;休.麦克迪尔米德则打出了“不学彭斯学邓巴”的口号,转向了伟大的中世纪诗人,由此掀起了苏格兰的文学复兴。

总体来说,英国的现代主义诗人们成功实现了他们的第一个目标。他们的作品的确将因袭传统惯于读诗的中产阶级读者们搅扰得心神不宁。二十世纪二十年代的英国报刊杂志上到处都是针对现代主义开刀的笑话、漫画以及气冲冲的社论,讽刺这些画家与诗人们“不说人话”并且只会媚外。正如我们将会在下文当中见到的那样,这一轮现代主义革命后续乏力,尤其是在诗歌领域。到了二十年代的末尾,针对现代主义革命的反弹已经显而易见了。但是这场革命起初的确活力四射,留下的作品甚至直到今天也依然值得一读。

在英国,现代主义具有两大主要方面,其一是性,其二是欧洲。西格蒙德.弗洛伊德的理论在当时大为盛行,认为性冲动比道德更深刻的理念也吸引了越来越多的拥趸,这两种理念成为了当时一大部分文学作品的基础——尤其是D.H.劳伦斯的作品。此外,在一战前夕以及战后不久的时期,英国文化久违地敞开了接受欧洲影响的大门。弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙、凡妮莎.贝尔以及布鲁姆斯伯里团体都将寻求引领的目光投向了巴黎,投向了格特鲁德.斯坦、毕加索、马蒂斯以及斯特拉文斯基等人。詹姆斯.乔伊斯发现只有巴黎的出版社才愿意出版自己的作品。罗杰.弗莱在伦敦举办的欧陆后印象派绘画展彻底改变了新一代英国画家的创作方式。庞德的朋友、雕塑家亨利.戈蒂耶-布尔泽斯卡死在战场上,致使庞德对战争大为恐惧。庞德与邪魅四射的温德姆.路易斯共同开创的漩涡主义更是受到了意大利画家菲利波.马里奈缔的影响。

因此在考察英国现代主义时最合适的入手点之一就是米娜.洛伊。她于1882年生于伦敦,母亲是英格兰人,父亲是匈牙利犹太人。不到二十岁时她来到慕尼黑并且吸收了大量欧洲新思想——例如弗洛伊德与尼采——然后回到英国学习绘画。就像前文当中讨论过的许多诗人一样,她也首先是个画家,其次才是作家。1903年她搬到巴黎居住,后来又搬到了佛罗伦萨。她的社交圈子包括格特鲁德.斯坦、纪尧姆.阿波利奈尔以及毕加索,未来主义流派的领导人菲利波.马里奈缔还曾与她谈过恋爱。战争期间她一边担任护士一边出版诗歌与女权主义宣言。1916年之后她在曼哈顿与欧洲之间频繁往来,永远置身于激进派现代主义小圈子的正中心。读者们甚至可以辩称洛伊根本不是英国人。但是问题的部分关键正在于此。在战后时期,“国际文化”在欧洲各国首都——包括伦敦在内——组成的网络里四下传播,成为了当时的主流。如果你想研究国际文化,那么最好不过研究米娜.洛伊。就连T.S.艾略特都很仰慕她。看看下面这首《人体气缸》(Human Cylinders)就能理解为什么:

The human cylinders

Revolving in the enervating dusk

That wraps each closer in the mystery

Of singularity

Among the litter of a sunless afternoon

Having eaten without tasting

Talked without communion

And at least two of us

Loved a very little

Without seeking

To know if our two miseries

In the lucid rush-together of automatons

Could form one opulent wellbeing

人体气缸

在令人萎靡的暮色中运转

在奇点的神秘当中将彼此围绕得

愈发紧密

在没有阳光的午后的废弃物当中

吞咽而不品尝

交谈而不交流

至少我们两个

爱得很少

从未试图

去了解我们的两项神秘是否

在自动机器显然的聚首当中

能够形成一项丰腴的福祉

Simplifications of men

In the enervating dusk

Your indistinctness

Serves me the core of the kernel of you

When in the frenzied reaching out of intellect to intellect

Leaning brow to brow communicative

Over the abyss of the potential

Concordance of respiration

Shames

Absence of corresponding between the verbal sensory

And reciprocity

Of conception

And expression

Where each extrudes beyond the tangible

One thin pale trail of speculation

From among us we have sent out

Into the enervating dusk

One little whining beast

Whose longing

Is to slink back to antediluvian burrow

And one elastic tentacle of intuition

To quiver among the stars

简单化的人

在令人萎靡的暮色中

你的泯然众人

之于我却是你这籽粒的核心

当智力狂热地探求其他智力

当眉毛轻挑用眉毛交流

越过呼吸的潜在谐和

的无底深渊

耻辱

缺少了相互响应,在词语感觉

与概念

以及表达

的互惠之间

每一次超越可触及之物的挤压

一道纤细苍白的猜测痕迹

从我们当中我们向着

令人萎靡的暮色送出

一只哭泣的小兽

它的渴望

就是钻回史前的地穴

一根直觉的弹性触手

在群星间颤动

The impartiality of the absolute

Routs the polemic

Or which of us

Would not

Receiving the holy-ghost

Catch it and caging

Lose it

Or in the problematic

Destroy the Universe

With a solution

绝对的不偏不倚

击溃了辩论法

或者我们当中的哪一个

不愿意

接受圣灵

抓住它关起来

丢掉它

或者在问题当中

用一条解决之道

毁灭宇宙

说一千道一万,谁都不能说这首诗写得不新。这正是埃兹拉.庞德希望看到的诗歌。但是这首诗并未取得完全成功——诗句中的多音节单词还是太多且太突兀,无韵诗体例用在这里显得松松垮垮而并非紧绷且无可避免。在《休.塞尔温.莫伯利》(Hugh Selwyn Mauberley)一诗中,庞德正面回答了如何创作新诗的问题:

For three years out of key with his time,

He strove to resuscitate the dead art

Of poetry; to maintain "The sublime"*

In the old sense. Wrong from the start--

三年来此人一贯与时令不合,

努力要复兴死去的诗歌艺术;

从而维持旧时代含义当中的

“崇高”。一开始就走错了路——*1

*1【“崇高”(The sublime)在此似特指希腊哲学家卡修斯.隆基努斯或德国哲学家康德的理论,认为文学作品应在内容与形式上达到雄伟的境界。】

No hardly, but, seeing he had been born

In a half-savage country, out of date;

Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;

Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;

这也难免,鉴于他出生的家乡

野蛮粗鄙,落后于时代太多;*2

他铁了心要从橡子里挤榨出百合芬芳,

恰似卡帕纽斯;用虚假诱饵将鳟鱼捕捉。*3

*2【庞德生于美国中西部的爱达荷州。】

*3【卡帕纽斯是希腊神话人物,在埃斯库罗斯的名剧《七将攻忒拜》里,他发誓非要攻进忒拜城中,即使是宙斯也不能阻止,结果被宙斯用雷劈死。“虚假诱饵”即橡胶拟饵。用拟饵钓鳟鱼是当时美国流行的休闲活动。】

庞德转向经典拉丁文、法文与中文著作寻求创作灵感。他采用了罗伯特.勃朗宁开创的戏剧化独白手法,试图创作新鲜、纯粹并且能够自行站住脚的作品。以下诗文节选自《致敬赛克斯图斯.普罗佩提乌斯》(Homage to Sextus Propertius),庞德在这首诗中将美国气质与古卷霉味饶有趣味地混合在了一起:

There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to my palaver.

Though my house is not propped up by Taenarian columns

From Laconia (associated with Neptune and Cerberus),

Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams;

My orchards do not lie level and wide

as the forests of Ph?cia,

the luxurious and Ionian,

Nor are my caverns stuffed stiff with a Marcian vintage—

(my cellar does not date from Numa Pompilius,

Nor bristle with wine jars):

Nor is it equipped with a frigidaire patent;

Yet the companions of the Muses

will keep their collective nose in my books,

And, weary with historical data, they will turn to my dance tune.

Happy who are mentioned in my pamphlets;

the songs shall be a fine tomb-stone over their beauty.

将会有一群年轻女性面对我的满纸废话表达敬意

尽管支撑寒舍的并非来自台那伦的立柱,

并非来自拉科尼亚(与尼普顿以及刻耳柏洛斯有关),

尽管寒舍并非倚仗着镀金的梁柱,

我的果园也并不算平整宽敞

不能与费阿刻斯岛上的森林

或者草木繁茂的爱奥尼亚相比,

我的地下室里并未塞满马尔西安皇帝的佳酿——

(我的酒窖追溯不到努马.庞皮留斯的时代

也并未堆满酒罐。)

屋里也没有安置北极牌电器;

但是缪斯女神们陪伴着我

与我一起手不释卷。

厌倦了历史文献,她们将会转向我的舞曲曲调。

我这小册子里提到的人们都会快乐

其中的歌曲将为她们的美丽树立精美的墓碑。

话说回来,将庞德这样一位土生土长的美国人放在这里真的合适吗?虽说他也是盎撒血统,但是对于英国诗歌传统却并不算特别热情。他在巴黎旅居了很长时间,然后又决定为墨索里尼治下的意大利摇旗呐喊。二战结束后他在精神病院里呆了十三年,重获自由之后又跑到威尼斯宅居起来。但是尽管如此,他依然是英国诗歌史不可分割的一部分。他最早在诗歌领域崭露头角就是在伦敦,他毕生的事业则是彻底改造英语诗歌。更进一步来说,他背负的深切创伤——正是这一创伤刺激得他越发痴狂地痛恨金融体系与犹太人并且最终倒向了反犹法西斯主义——正是源自一战以及“老头子的谎言”:

These fought in any case,

and some believing,

pro domo, in any case . . .

Some quick to arm,

some for adventure,

some from fear of weakness,

some from fear of censure,

some for love of slaughter, in imagination,

learning later . . .

some in fear, learning love of slaughter;

那些在任何情况下都会作战的人们

以及一部分在任何情况下都

相信为集体献身的人们……

有些人急于拿起武器,

有些人急于冒险,

有些人害怕软弱,

有些人怕被戳戳点点,

有些人在想象中热爱杀戮,

后来才发现……

有些人因为害怕,学会将杀戮依恋

Died some, pro patria,

non "dulce" non "et decor" . . .

walked eye-deep in hell

believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving

came home, home to a lie,

home to many deceits,

home to old lies and new infamy;

usury age-old and age-thick

and liars in public places.

有些人为了祖国而死,

既不“甜美”也不“合宜”……

睁着两眼走进地狱

相信了老头子的谎言,然后丧失信念

回到家中,回到谎言之家,

众多欺骗之家,

旧谎言与新耻辱之家;

如同岁月一样古老浓厚的篡权

以及公开场合的骗子。

Daring as never before, wastage as never before.

Young blood and high blood,

fair cheeks, and fine bodies;

fortitude as never before

frankness as never before,

disillusions as never told in the old days,

hysterias, trench confessions,

laughter out of dead bellies.

从未有过的胆敢,从未有过的空耗

年轻的鲜血与高涨的鲜血

红润的脸颊,健美的肢体;

从未有过的坚毅

从未有过的坦率,

旧日无人讲述过的幻灭,

歇斯底里,战壕里的忏悔,

死尸腹中发出的笑声。

同样的愤怒与绝望驱使着休.麦克迪尔米德投入了列宁与斯大林的怀抱,并且让二十年代的诗坛充满了歇斯底里的气息。庞德耗费毕生心力的巨著《诗章》(The Cantos)虽说遭到了他的恶毒反犹主义以及总体来说颠三倒四的政治理念的玷污,但是依然充满了美好的事物。下面这段诗文节选自诗章第十三篇,主题是孔子与合宜的社会秩序。诗句行文清晰,丝毫不见狂气,而且至少在笔者听来清新爽快,十分现代。

Kung walked

by the dynastic temple

and into the cedar grove,

and then out by the lower river,

And with him Khieu Tchi

and Tian the low speaking

And "we are unknown," said Kung,

"You will take up charioteering?

"Then you will become known,

"Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery?

"Or the practice of public speaking?"

And Tseu-lou said, "I would put the defences in order,"

And Khieu said, "If I were lord of a province

"I would put it in better order than this is."

And Tchi said, "I would prefer a small mountain temple,

"With order in the observances,

with a suitable performance of the ritual,"

And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute

The low sounds continuing

after his hand left the strings,

And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves,

And he looked after the sound:

"The old swimming hole,

"And the boys flopping off the planks,

"Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins."

And Kung smiled upon all of them equally.

And Thseng-sie desired to know:

"Which had answered correctly?"

And Kung said, "They have all answered correctly,

"That is to say, each in his nature."

孔子漫步

走过太庙

步入柏树林

来到河水下游,

他的身边有冉求,公西赤,

曾点与子路。

“我们不为人知,”孔子说,

“你可会学习御术?

然后你们就将为人所知,

又或者我应当学习御术,或射术?

或者演讲术?”

子路说,“我将整顿国防,”

冉求说,“我若做一省的官长,

我将使人民生活得更加富足。”

公西赤说:“我愿投身小山上的庙宇,

穿戴礼服与礼帽,

恰当地履行仪式傧相的职责。”

曾点发言时,手不离琴弦,

当他将琴放下时

低音还在继续,

乐声宛如烟雾,在树叶下缭绕,

他的视线投向乐声消散之处:

“在那熟悉的戏水池塘边上,

孩子们从岸边跳进水中,

或者在树丛里弹琵琶。”

孔子对他们全都报以微笑。

曾皙想要知道:

“谁的答案正确?”

孔子说:“他们的回答全都正确,

每人的答案都符合本性。”

帖:4540600 复 4344063
2020-07-29 02:20:27万年看客
2 不止一次战争的诗人6

在起义过后,爱尔兰的政治生活就不如先前那样盛行英雄主义了。所谓“我的人民”究竟是谁呢?随着时间的推移,叶芝的傲慢(他逐渐成为了一名英格兰乡绅)与新爱尔兰天主教革命之间的矛盾也变得越发痛苦起来。暴力革命的确具有可怕的美,但是也有着精英西方文化脆弱且不断低落下去的哀鸣。1919年叶芝创作了痛彻五内的《基督再临》(The Second Coming)。对于他来说,以及对于我们将会在下文当中见到的许多人来说,他们此前所理解的西方文明似乎真的正在走向末路。诗中的“盘旋”一词代表了两千年来的历史循环,这一点在诗人的思路当中正变得越发重要。第二节当中的梦魇意象则可以追溯到布莱克与雪莱:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

猎鹰绕着越来越大的圈子不停地盘旋

再也听不见放鹰人的呼唤;

万物分崩离析;中心难以为系;

世上只落下一盘散沙的无政府主义,

血色迷糊的潮流奔腾汹涌,

天真的仪典,亦忍为滔天血浪所湮没;

至善者毫无信心,而至恶者

却躁动不止。

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

一准是某种启示已近在眼前;

一准是基督再临就在眼前。

基督再临!话未出口,

一个巨大的形象便出现在人们脑际

令我花了眼:在大漠沙海之中,

一个狮身人面的形体

目光如烈日般茫然而无情。

正缓慢地挪动腿脚,周围环绕着

—群义愤的沙漠鸟的影子。

黑暗再度降临;不过现在我知道

过去两千年岩石般的沉睡

都被摇篮摇成了噩梦般的烦恼,

何等粗野的畜牲,它的时辰巳至,

慵懒地朝伯利恒走去投生。【译者不详】

叶芝并不是在偶尔为之地发泄绝望怨气。这一年他还创作了另一首伟大诗歌,题目是《一九一九》(Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen),主旨是悲叹文明倾颓。以下节选的是本诗开头部分:

MANY ingenious lovely things are gone

That seemed sheer miracle to the multitude,

protected from the circle of the moon

That pitches common things about.There stood

Amid the ornamental bronze and stone

An ancient image made of olive wood --

And gone are Phidias' famous ivories

And all the golden grasshoppers and bees.

许多精巧可爱的事物都已消逝,

在世人眼里也曾巧夺天工

妥善珍藏,不受日夜周转的侵蚀,

哪怕凡俗之物早已被一扫而空;

且看那一片装饰用的青铜与大理石,

橄榄木质地的古代造像置身其中——

菲狄亚斯著名的象牙雕工,以及一切

金质蚱蜢与蜜蜂,如今都早已湮灭。

We too had many pretty toys when young:

A law indifferent to blame or praise,

To bribe or threat; habits that made old wrong

Melt down, as it were wax in the sun's rays;

Public opinion ripening for so long

We thought it would outlive all future days.

O what fine thought we had because we thought

That the worst rogues and rascals had died out.

年轻时我们也曾将精巧玩具掌握:

这套法律懒得区分赞美与责骂,

不吃贿赂与威胁;依照习惯将旧日过错

销熔,恰似烈日暴晒下的蜂蜡;

民意过了那么久才瓜熟蒂落,

我们还以为这套法律未来也永不会变化。

啊,我们的思想曾经多么天真烂漫,

满心以为最恶劣的恶棍都已完蛋。

All teeth were drawn, all ancient tricks unlearned,

And a great army but a showy thing;

What matter that no cannon had been turned

Into a ploughshare? Parliament and king

Thought that unless a little powder burned

The trumpeters might burst with trumpeting

And yet it lack all glory; and perchance

The guardsmen's drowsy chargers would not prance.

拔光满口牙齿,历代技艺全都忘掉,

千军万马徒有其表看似威武堂堂;

就算从未熔炼火炮将耕犁重新铸造

又如何?无论议会还是国王

都以为除非点燃一撮火药,

否则号兵恐怕会贸然吹响军号高昂

但却毫无光荣可言;还有可能

卫兵们的困倦战马并不会奋蹄奔腾。

Now days are dragon-ridden, the nightmare

Rides upon sleep: a drunken soldiery

Can leave the mother, murdered at her door,

To crawl in her own blood, and go scot-free;

The night can sweat with terror as before

We pieced our thoughts into philosophy,

And planned to bring the world under a rule,

Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.

如今的白昼恶龙遍布,夜晚的睡眠

被噩梦侵扰:一名士兵喝得酩酊大醉

之后,将一位母亲残杀在她家门前,

听任她在血泊里挣扎,事后竟能脱罪;

夜晚也会战战兢兢汗出如浆就像从前

我们将思绪直插进哲学问对,

筹划着要让全世界服从同一套尺度标准,

世人无非是鼬鼠,在逼仄地穴里撕咬凶狠。

He who can read the signs nor sink unmanned

Into the half-deceit of some intoxicant

From shallow wits; who knows no work can stand,

Whether health, wealth or peace of mind were spent

On master-work of intellect or hand,

No honour leave its mighty monument,

Has but one comfort left: all triumph would

But break upon his ghostly solitude.

他若能看懂征兆,不会无人陪同地下潜

沉入半掩的欺骗,源自浅薄头脑的醉人毒浆;

他若知道任何成就都无法历时久远,

无论智识或者手工的旷世杰作耗费了多少健康、

财富或者心灵安宁,终究都无法幸免;

他若知道恢弘的纪念碑上残存不下半点荣光,

那么他心里就只剩下一条慰籍:

一切凯旋都能打破他那幽灵般的孤寂。

But is there any comfort to be found?

Man is in love and loves what vanishes,

What more is there to say? That country round

None dared admit, if Such a thought were his,

Incendiary or bigot could be found

To burn that stump on the Acropolis,

Or break in bits the famous ivories

Or traffic in the grasshoppers or bees.

但是这世上可还能找到丝毫慰籍?

热恋当中的人热爱着消逝的事物,

还能说些什么?就算寻访全国各地,

也没人胆敢将心中念头吐露:

要想烧毁雅典卫城多么容易,

肯定不缺燃料,偏见就是引火之物;

谁不想将精工牙雕砸个稀烂?

谁不想将金质蚂蚱与蜜蜂踩成碎片?

当叶芝写下这些诗句时,列宁已经进驻了克里姆林宫,德皇治下的德国已经沦为了遍地焦土,青壮年人口损失惨重的英国充斥着罢工与鼎沸民怨,爱尔兰即将陷入苦涩的内战。一战扯掉了旧式政治秩序的堂皇画皮,促使许多人开始转向激进理念——例如法西斯主义——寻求答案。叶芝也在晚年受到了法西斯主义的吸引。但是在那之前,他的兴趣更偏向分析旧文化与新文化之间的鸿沟。他一边将自身与旧文化绑定在一起,一边设想着即将到来的究竟会是什么东西。

下面这首《内战时期的沉思》(Meditations in Time of Civil War)创作于1922年。当时叶芝过着避世隐居的生活,居住在戈尔韦的巴利李塔楼。在这首诗当中,叶芝把玩了许多描写英格兰乡间别墅的传统诗歌当中的常见意象:

SURELY among a rich man's flowering lawns,

Amid the rustle of his planted hills,

Life overflows without ambitious pains;

And rains down life until the basin spills,

And mounts more dizzy high the more it rains

As though to choose whatever shape it wills

And never stoop to a mechanical

Or servile shape, at others’ beck and call.

Mere dreams, mere dreams! Yet Homer had not Sung

Had he not found it certain beyond dreams

That out of life’s own self-delight had sprung

The abounding glittering jet; though now it seems

As if some marvellous empty sea-shell flung

Out of the obscure dark of the rich streams,

And not a fountain, were the symbol which

Shadows the inherited glory of the rich.

当然在专属富人家的百花草地,

在专属他家的山林沙沙风声婀娜,

与巨大痛苦无关的生命奔流洋溢,

倾盆洒下的生命将盆地化为泽国。

越是令人目眩的高山,山上雨水就越充裕,

似乎任何形态都由它自主选择:

从不会屈就机械或奴役的形骸,

从不会呼之即去召之即来。

梦想而已,梦想而已!但荷马本不会歌唱

如过他不曾发现在梦境之外

肯定有一道喷泉丰沛闪亮

源自生命的自娱;尽管现在

就好像奇妙的空贝壳突然亮相

被抛出幽暗失去了掩盖,

这幽暗不属于泉水,而属于溪流丰裕,

将富人的家传荣光遮蔽。【参考了袁可嘉的译文】

但是这首诗的主旨是挑战传统,而不是一味强化或者重复关于新教世家大族的权威特质的惯常假设:

What if the glory of escutcheoned doors,

And buildings that a haughtier age designed,

The pacing to and fro on polished floors

Amid great chambers and long galleries, lined

With famous portraits of our ancestors;

What if those things the greatest of mankind

Consider most to magnify, or to bless,

But take our greatness with our bitterness?

如果这些雕饰门扉的荣光,

那些出自更高傲时代的建筑,

长廊联通了宽敞的厅堂,

在长廊的光滑地板上漫步,

我们祖先的著名画像挂在两旁

如果我们当中最伟大的人物

认为这些事物最应发扬光大或祝福,

但是又将我们的伟大与痛苦一并夺去,该当何如?【参考了袁可嘉的译文】

不管怎么说,内战的粗鲁现实毕竟还是闯进了叶芝坚定捍卫的田园生活(战争期间巴利李塔楼附近的一座桥梁被炸塌,遭到堵塞的河水淹没了塔楼的一层)。

An affable Irregular,

A heavily-built Falstaffian man,

Comes cracking jokes of civil war

As though to die by gunshot were

The finest play under the sun.

A brown Lieutenant and his men,

Half dressed in national uniform,

Stand at my door, and I complain

Of the foul weather, hail and rain,

A pear-tree broken by the storm.

一个和善的非正规军,

胖胖的福尔斯塔夫人物,

走过来,讲着内战的笑话,

好像给枪弹打死

是太阳下最好玩的事。

黑棕色的中尉和兵士

半身穿着国军制服,

站在我门口,我抱怨

坏天气,雨和霰,

梨树根被风暴打断。【袁可嘉译】

叶芝乐天知命的笔调在下一章节变得越发黑暗起来。这一章名叫《我窗边的燕八哥巢》(The Stare's Nest by My Window),诗人思考了自己的世界走向末日时的景象:

The bees build in the crevices

Of loosening masonry, and there

The mother birds bring grubs and flies.

My wall is loosening; honey-bees,

Come build in the empty house of the state.

We are closed in, and the key is turned

On our uncertainty; somewhere

A man is killed, or a house burned,

Yet no cleat fact to be discerned:

Come build in he empty house of the stare.

A barricade of stone or of wood;

Some fourteen days of civil war;

Last night they trundled down the road

That dead young soldier in his blood:

Come build in the empty house of the stare.

We had fed the heart on fantasies,

The heart’s grown brutal from the fare;

More Substance in our enmities

Than in our love; O honey-bees,

Come build in the empty house of the stare.

蜂群在松散的墙垣空隙.

筑巢,那里母鸟们

弄来虫子和枝条。

我的墙松散了,蜜蜂们

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

我们给关在里面,

钥匙何时转,我们不知道,

什么地方人被杀,房被烧,

无清楚事实可以知晓,

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

一道石头或木头的路障,

十四天左右的内战,

昨夜他们推着车运来

一个青年士兵血迹斑斑;

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

我们的心为狂想哺养,

这种食粮使心残暴,

我们仇恨的质量

超过了我们的爱;蜜蜂啊,

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。【袁可嘉译】

如此惨淡的景象必然将会引出最终结局:

I see Phantoms of Hatred and of the Heart’s

Fullness and of the Coming Emptiness

I climb to the tower-top and lean upon broken stone,

A mist that is like blown snow is sweeping over all...

我看见仇恨的幻影,内心

充实和未来空虚的幻影

我爬上塔顶,倚靠着破碎的石头,

一阵雾像灰暗的雪正横扫一切……【袁可嘉译】

内战不同于国战。仅就死亡人数以及死法的惨烈程度来说,爱尔兰内战远不能与1914-1918年期间的欧陆战争相提并论,但是这场战争也自有其刀刀见肉的野蛮之处,威廉.巴特勒.叶芝所知道的一切都遭到了内战的摇撼。笔者希望以上选取的诗文能够表明,叶芝的应对方式就是构建自己的新结构——本质上来说他为新时代构建了新神话。在这方面他并不孤单。二十世纪二三十年代英格兰与苏格兰诗坛的故事很大程度上讲的是如何创造一个全新的言辞世界,从而抵挡令人不安的全新现实。

帖:4540055 复 4344063
帖内引用