雙語·返老還童：菲茨杰拉德短篇小說選 返老還童 八

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON VIII

Hildegarde, waving a large silk flag, greeted him on the porch, and even as he kissed her he felt with a sinking of the heart that these three years had taken their toll. She was a woman of forty now, with a faint skirmish line of gray hairs in her head. The sight depressed him.

Up in his room he saw his reflection in the familiar mirror—he went closer and examined his own face with anxiety, comparing it after a moment with a photograph of himself in uniform taken just before the war.

“Good Lord!” he said aloud. The process was continuing. There was no doubt of it—he looked now like a man of thirty. Instead of being delighted, he was uneasy—he was growing younger. He had hitherto hoped that once he reached a bodily age equivalent to his age in years, the grotesque phenomenon which had marked his birth would cease to function. He shuddered. His destiny seemed to him awful, incredible.

When he came down-stairs Hildegarde was waiting for him. She appeared annoyed, and he wondered if she had at last discovered that there was something amiss. It was with an effort to relieve the tension between them that he broached the matter at dinner in what he considered a delicate way.

“Well,” he remarked lightly, “everybody says I look younger than ever.”

Hildegarde regarded him with scorn. She sniffed. “Do you think it's anything to boast about?”

“I'm not boasting,” he asserted uncomfortably. She sniffed again. “The idea,” she said, and after a moment: “I should think you'd have enough pride to stop it.”

“How can I?” he demanded.

“I'm not going to argue with you,” she retorted. “But there's a right way of doing things and a wrong way. If you've made up your mind to be different from everybody else, I don't suppose I can stop you, but I really don't think it's very considerate.”

“But, Hildegarde, I can't help it.”

“You can too. You're simply stubborn. You think you don't want to be like any one else. You always have been that way, and you always will be. But just think how it would be if every one else looked at things as you do—what would the world be like?”

As this was an inane and unanswerable argument Benjamin made no reply, and from that time on a chasm began to widen between them. He wondered what possible fascination she had ever exercised over him.

To add to the breach, he found, as the new century gathered headway, that his thirst for gaiety grew stronger. Never a party of any kind in the city of Baltimore but he was there, dancing with the prettiest of the young married women, chatting with the most popular of the débutantes, and finding their company charming, while his wife, a dowager of evil omen, sat among the chaperons, now in haughty disapproval, and now following him with solemn, puzzled, and reproachful eyes.

“Look!” people would remark. “What a pity! A young fellow that age tied to a woman of forty-five. He must be twenty years younger than his wife.” They had forgotten—as people inevitably forget—that back in 1880 their mammas and papas had also remarked about this same ill-matched pair.

Benjamin's growing unhappiness at home was compensated for by his many new interests. He took up golf and made a great success of it. He went in for dancing: in 1906 he was an expert at“The Boston,” and in 1908 he was considered proficient at the“Maxixe,” while in 1909 his“Castle Walk”was the envy of every young man in town.

His social activities, of course, interfered to some extent with his business, but then he had worked hard at wholesale hardware for twenty-five years and felt that he could soon hand it on to his son, Roscoe, who had recently graduated from Harvard.

He and his son were, in fact, often mistaken for each other. This pleased Benjamin—he soon forgot the insidious fear which had come over him on his return from the Spanish-American War, and grew to take a na?ve pleasure in his appearance. There was only one fly in the delicious ointment—he hated to appear in public with his wife. Hildegarde was almost fifty, and the sight of her made him feel absurd.…

返老還童 八

希爾德加德?lián)]著一面大錦旗，在門口迎接他，甚至在吻她的時候，他的心都是沉甸甸的，他覺得這三年時間讓他們付出了代價。她現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)四十歲，頭上已經(jīng)斑斑駁駁地有了些許白發(fā)，這個情景讓他覺得很沮喪。

他上樓走進房間，看到熟悉的鏡子里自己的模樣——他又走近些，憂心忡忡地端詳著自己的面容，和戰(zhàn)爭爆發(fā)前的一張軍裝照比較了一會兒。

“上帝！”他大聲叫道。這個過程仍在繼續(xù)。毫無疑問——他現(xiàn)在看起來像個三十歲的男人。他沒有感到高興，相反，他很發(fā)愁——他越來越年輕了。他一直希望，如果他的生理年齡和實際年齡相吻合的話，他出生時的古怪現(xiàn)象就不會再發(fā)揮影響了。他打了個冷戰(zhàn)。他的命運似乎很可怕，很不可思議。

他下了樓，希爾德加德在等他。她似乎很生氣，他懷疑她是否終于察覺出什么異常了。他竭力緩和他們之間的緊張氣氛，晚飯的時候，他用自以為很委婉的方式想探探她對這件事的態(tài)度。

“哦，”他故作輕松地說，“大家都說我看起來比以前任何時候都年輕?！?/p>

希爾德加德輕蔑地看著他，冷冷地哼了一聲。“你以為這是值得炫耀的事情嗎？”

“我不是在炫耀?！彼话驳乇砻鲬B(tài)度。

她又冷冷地哼了一聲?！斑@個念頭，”她停了一會兒接著說，“我想但凡你有自尊心，就該斷了這個念頭?！?/p>

“我能怎么辦？”他問道。

“我不想和你吵架，”她反駁道，“但是做一件事總是有對有錯。如果你下定決心要與眾不同，我認為我是管不了你，但是我真的認為這很自私?！?/p>

“可是，希爾德加德，我無能為力呀?！?/p>

“你完全可以。你就是冥頑不化。你想特立獨行，你一直這樣，而且你還想一直這樣下去。但是請你想想，如果別人都像你一樣，將會是什么情形——這個世界會是什么樣子？”

因為這個問題是與生俱來的，根本沒有答案，本杰明無言以對。從這以后，他們之間的分歧越來越大。他很奇怪，她以前怎么可能對他具有那么大的魅力。

隨著新世紀的到來，他發(fā)現(xiàn)，他對尋歡作樂的渴望愈發(fā)強烈，這進一步加大了他們之間的嫌隙。巴爾的摩的任何一個類型的任何那個一個舞會，都少不了他的影子。他和最漂亮的少婦跳舞，和最受青睞的社交界名媛聊天，他發(fā)現(xiàn)和她們在一起令人陶醉。而他的妻子，一臉倒霉相的貴族老婆子，坐在陪伴未婚少女的女監(jiān)護人中間，一會兒帶著目空一切的不滿，一會兒又用嚴厲、困惑、怨憤的眼神盯著他的背影看。

“看！”人們會說，“真是可惜！這么年輕的一個小伙子拴到一個四十五歲的老女人身上。他一定比他妻子年輕二十歲?！彼麄円呀?jīng)忘了——人們總是善于遺忘——早在一八八〇年，他們的父母對這一對不般配的夫妻做出過同樣的評價。

本杰明在家時越來越不開心，他用許多新的愛好來消解煩惱。他打高爾夫球，并且取得了巨大的成功。他熱愛跳舞：一九〇六年，他成為“波士頓華爾茲”的專家；一九〇八年，他被公認為“馬克西舞”的能手；而一九〇九年，他的“城堡舞”令全城的年輕人都驚嘆不已。

他的社交活動當然在某種程度上影響了他家的生意，不過那個時候他已經(jīng)為五金批發(fā)生意努力工作了二十五年，他覺得他很快就可以把生意交給兒子羅斯科打理，不久前羅斯科已經(jīng)從哈佛大學畢業(yè)了。

事實上，他和兒子經(jīng)常被人認錯。這讓本杰明很高興——不久他就忘記了他從美西戰(zhàn)場上返回家鄉(xiāng)時曾經(jīng)潛藏在心中的恐懼，開始天真地喜歡上了自己的容貌。春風得意的背后只有一件煩心事——他討厭和妻子一起出現(xiàn)在公共場合。希爾德加德快五十歲了，看到她，他就覺得非?；奶啤?/p>