我与台风的神奇对话——《风暴预警期》的由来

liz
2018-04-27 15:39:35

转自朱山坡新浪博客http://blog.sina.com.cn/u/1311944675

我与台风的神奇对话

——《风暴预警期》的由来

My Love-and-Hate Dialogue with Typhoons – Why I wrote "Beware of a Typhoon!"

朱山坡 鲁院写作研究生 译者:黄少政(独立翻译学者)

我生长在中国南方以南,两广交界,台风频繁光顾之地。我从小对暴风雨特别感兴趣,尤其是台风,自东南方向来,往西北方向去,不知为何而来,也不知为何而去。小时候,从乡村广播里听到台风预警,心里便充满了期盼,好像在等待一位远方的客人。但与热情款待客人不同的是,我们得把值钱的东西藏起来,不让台风卷走。台风有时候到了半路,突然掉头离去,或改变路线与我们擦肩而过。我会很失落,会责怪人们怠慢了台风,咒骂了台风,从而得罪了台风。台风是大自然的神灵,我们心里想什么,它们都知道。一个连台风都不愿意抵达的地方,是没有希望的。

I grew up in a small place at the further most southern tip of South China, between Guangdong and Guangxi(within the administrative

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转自朱山坡新浪博客http://blog.sina.com.cn/u/1311944675

我与台风的神奇对话

——《风暴预警期》的由来

My Love-and-Hate Dialogue with Typhoons – Why I wrote "Beware of a Typhoon!"

朱山坡 鲁院写作研究生 译者:黄少政(独立翻译学者)

我生长在中国南方以南,两广交界,台风频繁光顾之地。我从小对暴风雨特别感兴趣,尤其是台风,自东南方向来,往西北方向去,不知为何而来,也不知为何而去。小时候,从乡村广播里听到台风预警,心里便充满了期盼,好像在等待一位远方的客人。但与热情款待客人不同的是,我们得把值钱的东西藏起来,不让台风卷走。台风有时候到了半路,突然掉头离去,或改变路线与我们擦肩而过。我会很失落,会责怪人们怠慢了台风,咒骂了台风,从而得罪了台风。台风是大自然的神灵,我们心里想什么,它们都知道。一个连台风都不愿意抵达的地方,是没有希望的。

I grew up in a small place at the further most southern tip of South China, between Guangdong and Guangxi(within the administrative jurisdiction of Guangxi) ,plagued by storms perennially. I was particularly infatuated with all the tropical cyclones when young, especially typhoons which usually form from the southeast and move northwest wise. For a kid, this natural force spring up out of nowhere and disappears for no reason. I recalled typhoon warnings would be routinely issued from the village radio loudspeaker which instantly ignited my curiosity and put me into a festival mood waiting for a family guest from afar. However, unlike the way the home guest was treated and showered with generosity, villagers and my parents were sent into panic by hiding all provisions and livestock, evacuating the people to avoid being devastated by the subsequent flooding. The typhoons sometimes stalked halfway and then suddenly turned back, or changed course to pass by us, a moment which really let me down. I surmised villagers must have incurred the displeasure of typhoons and even cursed adults for resisting typhoons. Typhoons are the divinities of nature, omniscient and omnipotent. I reasoned my village was a pariah since even typhoons refused to visit us.

我的家乡正是穷乡僻壤,乏善可陈,我觉得自己是被世界遗弃了的孩子。说好了要来的台风又一次变卦,加剧了我的自卑感,愈加觉得自己与世界太遥远太隔绝,一年到头也见不到几个陌生人,除了村子里的乡亲再也没有谁知道我的存在。我找不到通往世界的方式,也无法告诉世界我很孤独很想离开此地,只好寄希望于台风。台风有时候白天来,有时候半夜到。不管什么时候,我都欢迎,都热情相拥。我知道,它们经过大海,翻山越岭,见多识广,让身处封闭状态中的我仿佛看到了全世界,听到了大海。我与世界的距离一下子缩短为零。我相信,台风是为我而来,带来神秘的信息,至少它们来告诉我,世界没有将我遗忘,而是等待我慢慢成长,总有一天是要带我离开的。我认为我读懂了台风。

My hometown was a hopeless economic back water, not even close to a tiny stamp, perhaps a replica of Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha, “and in a condition of stasis, unaware of changed time”. The failure of the warned typhoon to appear only exacerbated the bitterness of my inferiority. We did not even meet with a few strange faces all year round .Were we totally left out of the larger scheme of things? I wondered. Lack of any exit here, I had no means of communicating with the world beyond and delivering a ISO we are stranded and please help us out. A typhoon in this way was the last ray of hope in my life . Come what may, typhoons were always a blessing in disguise , in the broad daylight ,in the middle of the night, any time was a good time for me. I was full of sadist joy and fear. Regardless of what grown ups might think, I was very stubborn in my adolescent reasoning that the omniscience of typhoons, over the mountains and across the rough sea might rip a hole in the extreme physical isolation of my Yoknapatawpha to let me peep through to see the world and hear the thundering sea. A fanciful mind reader of typhoons, I was convinced the typhoon came for me and brought me some mysterious messages that the world did not forget me but actually waited for me to grow up and took me away.

一年之中,它们会来三两次。我躲在摇摇欲坠的房子里,透过千疮百孔的窗户看台风,与它们对话。听它们劈头盖脸的说教,也告诉它们我心中的秘密,比如,我喜欢邓丽君,喜欢巨大的轮船,喜欢永远看不到尽头的大海。我还告诉它们今年村霸又做了哪些坏事,是该把他带走扔到海里喂鱼了。一个人,与台风窃窃私语。没有人知道我与台风如此亲密,彼此了解,建立了深厚感情。

Twice or thrice a year, typhoons did visit or hit us. I hid myself in a rickety shanty gasping at the typhoon through the gritty windows and struck up an imaginary conversation with them. While thunders exploded and storms pelted down, I nevertheless, confided in them about my little secrets, for example, I was a fan of Teresa Teng, a Taiwan popular singer, and of huge ships sailing over the solemn mains, and of course, of the sea rough and measureless down to the ends of the world. I also lodged a complaint about the bad things the village tyrant had done this year and pleaded him to be snatched away and eaten by the fish in the sea. It was the besotted confession of a farmer’s kid to be so intimate with typhoons and I even fancied there was a very good rapprochement and tacit understanding between us.

然而,台风带来的并非童话般的天真烂漫,而是可怕的末日景象。天地昏暗,杀气腾腾。风暴所至,摧枯拉朽,一切挺立的东西都心怀恐惧,绝望的哀号响彻云宵。村民们手忙脚乱,惊慌失措,在台风中抢收农作物,加固房子,给果木安装支架,给猪圈牛栏临时加筑防风墙……那时候台风的破坏力是很强的,因为房子不坚固,经不起台风的折腾,5、6级的台风都已经很厉害了,如果是7、8级的台风,屋顶的瓦片会一片不剩,甚至房子被摧跨。随之而来的洪水。山洪暴发,山体滑坡,河水逃离河床,稻田、原野、桥梁和房屋都被淹没,都变成茫茫一片汪洋大海,桥梁和道路被冲垮,原先熟悉的地方变得陌生,一片狼藉,满目疮痍…

…However, the real typhoon is not a fairy-tale for fun. They were some of the most destructive forces on earth, the worst scenario one could expect in his life. Typhoons are the beginning of sorrows as New Testament writers describe “ shall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken.” In their wake, dry weeds and dead wood were first to be crushed , any living thing upright standing collapsed and there was human wailing and animal crying everywhere. Villagers ,like bow-shy birds, panic-stricken, bustled about salvaging crops in the fields or stratifying their pigsties, stables or cowsheds. This was only a routine topical storm. When real typhoons came onto the scene, not a single roof top was left and the bare structure would go down amidst floods, landslides, while river beds changed course giving way to an open sea engulfing all the rice paddies, the plains, bridges and farm houses, roads. What was once the cozy community ,however impoverished, all of a sudden became a hellish, doomsday place beyond recognition.

我家也是台风的受害户,房子几度崩塌,家里种芭蕉树,种果树,眼看果就要成熟了,一阵台风过来全部倒下。我家几次因风灾返贫,债台高筑,我几乎因为交不起学费而辍学。但我没有因此憎恨过台风。只是希望它们不要来得太频繁,因为我需要时间思考,在我还没有想清楚要跟它们说什么之前,请它们不要来。即便是我已经准备就绪,也最好等庄稼收获后再来。还有,最好不要推倒我家的房子,不要将我家屋顶上瓦片全部卷走……

My family bore the brunt of them several times due to the proximity to the typhoon path .Our house went down time and again. The banana trees and fruit trees around were gone at the time of maturity, the last straw on the backs of debt ridden parents. We had to start over again .I was forced to skip school because I could not afford my tuition fees. However, I did not hate typhoons. I just hoped that they did not frequent our village at a wrong timing because I needed time to figure out what was what and that they might come when the harvesting season was over and we were ready for their visitation. One last wish: do save our humble dwelling or stop rolling away our rooftop.

这是小时候的台风和小时候的我。我几乎对每一次台风都记得清清楚楚,时至今日,每次听到台风预警时,我都会自然想起小时候的台风。我至今仍然相信台风是有魔力有灵性的,蕴藏着神秘的信息,只要你用心倾听,总能从中读懂些什么。你告诉台风什么,它们会将你的话带到遥远的世界尽头。

This much is still vivid and fresh in my memory-the fatalist relationship of a country boy with killer typhoons. Almost every typhoon that hit us is something stored in the inner recesses of the mind for immediate retrieval. Until this day, a typhoon warning still triggers all the adolescent recollections. Believe it or not, I still trust that a typhoon is magical and spiritual, carrying some mysterious message. As long as you listen carefully, you can always read something into it. Whatever you want to tell the typhoon, it will take your words to the furthermost end of the world.

现在我居住在城市里,铜墙铁壁,一切固若金汤,台风再也伤害不到我。我还是喜欢那么台风。台风来了,仿佛是一群发疯了的饿虎为我而来。我躲在高高的房子里观察着它们,既战战兢兢,又莫名亢奋。有时候,故意打开窗户,让风进来一会,让它们也知道我的存在。它们鱼贯而入,张牙舞爪,把我房间内的东西横扫一气,打翻桌子上的茶杯、花瓶和孩子们的玩具,同时也唤醒了沉睡多时了的物品,使得满屋子都充满了惊慌和混乱,理所当然般的安逸和娴静瞬间荡然无存

Now that I am a city dweller inhabiting a flat ,cement stratified, impregnable with four walls of iron and steel, totally free from the lethal impact of a typhoon. Yet I still retain a childlike liking for it as it stalks like a pack of wolves at me. Lying low in my high-rise stronghold , I keep gazing and gasping at it, trembling and inexplicably exciting. Sometimes, I even deliberately open the windows and let the winds come in for a while, as if challenging it “I am here. Come for me.” They get my hint and troop in, baring their fangs and brandishing their claws, jostling and elbowing their way before sweeping cups, vases and toys off the table and even awakening other small items lying dormant in the invisible corners and nooks of the house.

当台风要反客为主鸠占鹊巢时,我及时而艰难地关上窗户,切断了它们的来路,它们便变成了普通的空气留在房间里。我闻着它们的味道,分辩它们,跟小时候的气息依然相似,异常熟悉、亲切。我愿意相信,这些台风中蕴藏着过去世界的全部秘密,它们将一直保存下去。因而,我小时候说过的话,也被台风储存着。坐在窗台前,在风暴对窗玻璃的猛烈撞击中悠然自得地读几页书,这种享受,与风和日丽的境况截然不同。当我老去,我还愿意与台风为伍,因为台风中还有许多的秘密等待我去破译,去体味。

However, before they wreak a real havoc and reduce the house to a total mess, I will close the windows in time to cut short its path as if to reenact a long forgotten typhoon in miniature. I will pause to sniff at it, figure out and try to identify which is which. The same old scent, the familiar breath, so sweet and bitter and intimate. I would like to believe that these typhoons contain and preserve all the secrets of the past world, my adolescence. Therefore, after the dramatic rehearsal, I will sit in front of the windowsill, in pensive mood again, with my eyes glued to a book while the storms continue hard beating at the lighted windows, an experience beyond description ,say, when d the sun shines brilliantly and peacefully in a clear sky. I admit one day I am getting advanced in years, I would join in the ranks and files of the elusive typhoons and head anywhere with them on earth in a humble and mad attempt to comprehend even a tiny portion of their indecipherable secrets.

因此,写一部与台风有关的小说的念头由来已久。2016年,我终于完成了一部长篇小说《风暴预警期》(上海文艺出版社出版)。我虚构了一个蛋镇,写了蛋镇的漫长历史,揭示了卑微人物的命运,尤其是让台风成为这部书最惊心动魄的意象。在台风中,人性的光亮与幽暗得以放大,隐喻的力量足够与台风抗衡。地域特色赋予了小说神奇的气息,也使它充满了秘密。我相信我读懂了台风,更重要的是,我处理的是历史、记忆与现实的关系,我讲述的都是中国的故事,南方的故事,台风的故事,是我这一代人的集体记忆和童年经验。《风暴预警期》是我与台风的神奇对话,是我献给台风的礼物,台风会将它带走。

Therefore, the idea of writing a novel about typhoon has brewed in me for long. In 2016, I finally completed a full-length novel Beware of a Typhoon! (published by Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House). This trumped story occurs in a fictitious town called Egg Town, chronicling and depicting the fate of a group of townsfolk with typhoon as its central image. Against the devastation and horrendousness of the typhoon, the light and gloom of human nature are magnified while the metaphorical power of human beings and whimsical typhoons are tugging in opposite directions. Regionalism imbues the novel with an atmosphere, at once magical and tantalizingly inscrutable, an ambiance redolent of adolescence vanished. I believe that I have now read more into the mind of the typhoon than ever. More significant is the increasing skill of me as a novelist to deal with the relationship between history, memory, and reality. Beware of a Typhoon! is a pure Chinese story, from South China, about typhoons which form such an archetypal collective consciousness of my people. The " Beware of a Typhoon! " is a love-and-hate dialogue between me and the typhoon as a gift on my part to ensure that my hometown and its miserable and dignified people will not be forgotten or ignored in this new age of globalization.

2018年4月16日,中国社科院外文所,在2018国际写作计划中外作家研讨会上的发言

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