The final impression I received was of a prodigious effort to express some state of the soul, and in this effort, I fancied, must be sought the explanation of what so utterly perplexed me. It was evident that colours and forms had a significance for Strickland that was peculiar to himself. He was under an intolerable necessity to convey something that he felt, and he created them with that intention alone. He did not hesitate to simplify or to distort if he could get nearer to that unknown thing he sought. Facts were nothing to him, for beneath the mass of irrelevant incidents he looked for something significant to himself. It was as though he had become aware of the soul of the universe and were compelled to express it.
他的這些畫給我的最后一個印象是他為了表現(xiàn)某一精神境界所作的驚人的努力。我認為,要想解釋他的作品為什么使我這樣惶惑莫解,也必須從這一角度去尋找答案。對于思特里克蘭德,色彩和形式顯然具有一種獨特的意義。他幾乎無法忍受地感到必須把自己的某種感受傳達給別人;這是他進行創(chuàng)作的唯一意圖。只要他覺得能夠接近他追尋的事物,采用簡單的線條也好,畫得歪七扭八也好,他一點兒也不在乎。他根本不考慮真實情況,因為他要在一堆互不相關(guān)的偶然的現(xiàn)象下面尋找他自己感到意義重大的事物。他好象已經(jīng)抓到了宇宙的靈魂,一定要把它表現(xiàn)出來不可。
Though these pictures confused and puzzled me, I could not be unmoved by the emotion that was patent in them; and, I knew not why, I felt in myself a feeling that with regard to Strickland was the last I had ever expected to experience. I felt an overwhelming compassion.
盡管這些畫使我困惑、混亂,我卻不能不被它們特有的熱情所觸動。我覺得看過這些畫以后心里產(chǎn)生了一種感情,我絕沒想到對思特里克蘭德會有這樣一種感情——我感到非常非常同情他。
"I think I know now why you surrendered to your feeling for Blanche Stroeve," I said to him.
“我想我現(xiàn)在懂得了,你為什么屈從于對勃朗什·施特略夫的感情了,”我對他說。
"Why?"
“為什么?”
"I think your courage failed. The weakness of your body communicated itself to your soul. I do not know what infinite yearning possesses you, so that you are driven to a perilous, lonely search for some goal where you expect to find a final release from the spirit that torments you. I see you as the eternal pilgrim to some shrine that perhaps does not exist. I do not know to what inscrutable Nirvana you aim. Do you know yourself? Perhaps it is Truth and Freedom that you seek, and for a moment you thought that you might find release in Love. I think your tired soul sought rest in a woman's arms, and when you found no rest there you hated her. You had no pity for her, because you have no pity for yourself. And you killed her out of fear, because you trembled still at the danger you had barely escaped."
“我想你失掉勇氣了。你肉體的軟弱感染了你的靈魂。我不知道是怎樣一種無限思慕之情把你攫在手中,逼著你走上一條危險的、孤獨的道路,你一直在尋找一個地方,希望到達那里就可以使自己從那折磨著你的精靈手里解放出來。我覺得你很象一個終生跋涉的香客,不停地尋找一座可能根本不存在的神廟。我不知道你尋求的是什么不可思議的涅槃。你自己知道嗎?也許你尋找的是真理同自由,在一個短暫的時間里你認為或許能在愛情中獲得解脫。我想,你的疲倦的靈魂可能期望在女人的懷抱里求得休憩,當你在那里沒能找到的時候,你就開始恨她了。你對她一點也不憐憫,因為你對自己就不憐憫。你把她殺死是因為懼怕,因為你還為你剛剛逃脫的危險而索索發(fā)抖呢?!?/p>
He smiled dryly and pulled his beard.
他揪著自己的胡子干笑了一下。
"You are a dreadful sentimentalist, my poor friend."
“你真是個可怕的感傷主義者,可憐的朋友?!?/p>
A week later I heard by chance that Strickland had gone to Marseilles. I never saw him again.
一個星期以后,我偶然聽說他已經(jīng)到馬賽去了。我再也沒有看見過他。