时间:2020-05-27 来源:文都网校 浏览: 分享:


      经典名句-英文:The indolence of the people was in contrast to the voracity of oblivion, which little by little was undermining memories in a pitiless way..


    2021考研英语阅读练习资料: 百年孤独第18章(3)

      When she heard about the flight, Fernanda ranted for a whole day as she checked trunks, dressers, and closets, item by item, to make sure that Santa Sofía de la Piedad had not made off with anything. She burned her fingers trying to light a fire for the first time in her life and she had to ask Aureliano to do her the favor of showing her how to make coffee. Fernanda would find her breakfast ready when she arose and she would leave her room again only to get the meal that Aureliano had left covered on the embers for her, which she would carry to the table to eat on linen tablecloths and between candelabra, sitting at the solitary head of the table facing fifteen empty chairs. Even under those circumstances Aureliano and Fernanda did not share their solitude, but both continued living on their own, cleaning their respective rooms while the cobwebs fell like snow on the rose bushes, carpeted the beams, cushioned the walls. It was around that time that Fernanda got the impression that the house was filling up with elves. It was as if things, especially those for everyday use, had developed a faculty for changing location on their own. Fernanda would waste time looking for the shears that she was sure she had put on the bed and after turning everything upside down she would find them on a shelf in the kitchen, where she thought she had not been for four days. Suddenly there was no fork in the silver chest and she would find six on the altar and three in the washroom. That wandering about of things was even more exasperating when she sat down to write. The inkwell that she had placed at her right would be on the left, the blotter would be lost and she would find it two days later under her pillow, and the pages written to Jos?Arcadio would get mixed up with those written to Amaranta ?rsula, and she always had the feeling of mortification that she had put the letters in opposite envelopes, as in fact happened several times. On one occasion she lost her fountain pen. Two weeks later the mailman, who had found it in his bag, returned it. He had been going from house to house looking for its owner. At first she thought it was some business of the invisible doctors, like the disappearance of the pessaries, and she even started a letter to them begging them to leave her alone, but she had to interrupt it to do something and when she went back to her room she not only did not find the letter she had started but she had forgotten the reason for writing it. For a time she thought it was Aureliano. She began to spy on him, to put things in his path trying to catch him when he changed their location, but she was soon convinced that Aureliano never left Melquíades?room except to go to the kitchen or the toilet, and that he was not a man to play tricks. So in the end she believed that it was the mischief of elves and she decided to secure everything in the place where she would use it. She tied the shears to the head of her bed with a long string. She tied the pen and the blotter to the leg of the table, and the glued the inkwell to the top of it to the right of the place where she normally wrote. The problems were not solved overnight, because a few hours after she had tied the string to the shears it was not long enough for her to cut with, as if the elves had shortened it. The same thing happened to her with the string to the pen and even with her own arm which after a short time of writing could not reach the inkwell. Neither Amaranta ?rsula in Brussels nor Jos?Arcadio in Rome ever heard about those insignificant misfortunes. Fernanda told them that she was happy and in reality she was, precisely because she felt free from any compromise, as if life were pulling her once more toward the world of her parents, where one did not suffer with day-to-day problems because they were solved beforehand in one’s imagination. That endless correspondence made her lose her sense of time, especially after Santa Sofía de la Piedad had left. She had been accustomed to keep track of the days, months, and years, using as points of reference the dates set for the return of her children. But when they changed their plans time and time again, the dates became confused, the periods were mislaid, and one day seemed so much like another that one could not feel them pass. Instead of becoming impatient, she felt a deep pleasure in the delay. It did not worry her that many years after announcing the eve of his final vows, Jos?Arcadio was still saying that he was waiting to finish his studies in advanced theology in order to undertake those in diplomacy, because she understood how steep and paved with obstacles was the spiral stairway that led to the throne of Saint Peter. On the other hand, her spirits rose with news that would have been insignificant for other people, such as the fact that her son had seen the Pope. She felt a similar pleasure when Amaranta ?rsula wrote to tell her that her studies would last longer than the time foreseen because her excellent grades had earned her privileges that her father had not taken into account in his calculations.

      知道圣索菲娅。德拉佩德走了,菲兰达喋喋不休地唠叨了整整一天;她翻遍了所有的箱子、五斗橱和柜子,把所有的东西一件一件地查看一遍,这才确信自己的婆婆没有顺手拿走什么东西。然后,她有生以来第一次试着生炉子,不料烫痛了手指。她不得不请奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚帮忙,给她示范一下怎样煮咖啡。不久,奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚只好把厨房里所有的事都承担起来。每天一起床,菲兰达就发现早餐已经摆在桌上,刚吃过早餐。她便回卧室去,直到午餐时刻才又露面,为的是拿奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚给她留下的吃食,吃食是放在散发着木炭余热的炉子上的。她把几样简单的食物拿到餐厅里,在两个枝形烛台之间,在铺着亚麻桌布的餐桌前面,她端坐下来用餐,桌子两旁放着十五把空椅子。虽然房子里只剩下了奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚和菲兰达两个人,可是每人依然生活在自己的孤独之中。他们只是收拾各自的卧室,其他一切地方都渐渐布满了蜘蛛网,它们绕在玫瑰花丛上,贴在墙壁上,甚至房梁上都有一层密密的蜘蛛网。就在这些日子,菲兰达心里产生了一种感觉,仿佛他们的房间里出现了家神。各样东西,特别是少了它们一天也过不了的,仿佛都长了腿。一把剪刀可以使菲兰达找上好几个小时,但她深信剪刀明明是放在床上的,直到她翻遍整个床铺之后,才在厨房的隔板上发现它,尽管她觉得自己已经整整四天没跨进厨房一步了。要不就是盒子里的餐叉又突然失踪,第二天,祭坛上却放着六把,洗脸盆里又冒出三把。各样东西好象跟她捉迷藏,特别是他坐下来写信时,这种游戏更使她冒火。刚刚放在右边的墨水瓶却移到了左边,镇纸干脆从桌子上不翼而飞,三天之后,她却在自己的枕头底下找到了它,她写给霍。 阿卡蒂奥的信,也不知怎的装进了写给阿玛兰塔。 乌苏娜的信封。菲兰达生活在令人胆战心惊的恐惧之中, 她总是套错信封,就象先前不止一次发生过的那样。有一次,她的一枝羽毛笔突然不见了。过了十五天,一个邮差却把它送了口来——他在自己的口袋里发现了这枝笔,为了寻找它的主人,他一家一家地送信,不知在身上带了多久。起先,菲兰达心想,这些东西的失踪就跟宫托的丢失一样,是那些没有见过的医生耍的花招,她正开始写信请他们不要打扰她,因为有点急事要做,写了半句就停了笔,等她回到屋里,信却不知去向,她自己甚至把写信的意图都给忘记了。有一阵,她曾怀疑奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚。她开始跟踪他,在他走过的地方悄悄扔下各种东西,指望他藏起它们的时候,当场把他抓住,但她很快确信,奥雷连诺。布恩蒂亚从梅尔加德斯房间里出来,只去厨房和厕所,而且相信他是个不会开玩笑的人。于是菲兰达认为,这一切都是家神玩的把戏,便决定把每样东西固定在它们应当放的地方。她用几根长绳把剪刀缚在床头上,把一小盒羽毛笔和镇纸投在桌子脚上,又把墨水瓶粘在桌面上经常放纸的地方的右面。可是,她并没有获得自己希望的效果:只要她做针线活,两三小时以后伸手就拿不到剪刀了,似乎家神缩短了那根缚住剪刀的绳子。那根拴住镇纸的绳子也发生了同样的情况,甚至菲兰达自己的手也是如此,只要她一提起笔来写信,过了一会儿,手就够不到墨水瓶了。无论布鲁塞尔的阿玛兰塔·乌苏娜,或者罗马的霍·阿卡蒂奥,一点都不知道她这些不愉快的事,她给他们写信,说她十分幸福,事实上她也确实是幸福的,她觉得自己掉了一切责任,仿佛又回到了娘家似的,不必跟日常琐事打交道了,因为所有这些小问题都解决了——在想象中解决了。菲兰达没完没了地写信,渐渐失去了时间观念,这种现象在圣索菲娅。 德拉佩德走后特别明显。菲兰达一向都有计算年月日的习惯,她把儿女回家的预定日期当做计算的起点。谁知儿子和女儿开始一次又一次地推迟自己的归来,日期弄乱了,期限搞错了,日子不知如何算起,连日子正在一天天过去的感觉也没有了。不过这些延期并没有使菲兰达冒火,反而使她心里感到很高兴。甚至霍·阿卡蒂奥向她说,他希望修完高等神学课程之后再学习外交课程,她也没有见怪,尽管几年以前他已经写过信,说他很快就要履行返回马孔多的誓言;她知道,要想爬到圣徒彼得(耶稣十二门徒之一。)的地位是困难重重的,这个梯子弯弯曲曲,又高又陡,可不好爬。再譬如儿子告诉她,说他看见了教皇,就连这种在别人看来最平常的消息,也使她感到欣喜若狂。女儿写信告诉她说,由于学习成绩突出,她获得了父亲顶想不到的那种优惠待遇,可以超过规定的期限继续留在布鲁塞尔求学,这就更使菲兰达高兴了。

      More than three years had passed since Santa Sofía de la Piedad had brought him the grammar when Aureliano succeeded in translating the first sheet. It was not a useless chore. but it was only a first step along a road whose length it was impossible to predict, because the text in Spanish did not mean anything: the lines were in code. Aureliano lacked the means to establish the keys that would permit him to dig them out, but since Melquíades had told him that the books he needed to get to the bottom of the parchments were in the wise Catalonian’s store, he decided to speak to Fernanda so that she would let him get them. In the room devoured by rubble, whose unchecked proliferation had finally defeated it, he thought about the best way to frame the request, but when he found Fernanda taking her meal from the embers, which was his only chance to speak to her, the laboriously formulated request stuck in his throat and he lost his voice. That was the only time that he watched her. He listened to her steps in the bedroom. He heard her on her way to the door to await the letters from her children and to give hers to the mailman, and he listened until late at night to the harsh, impassioned scratching of her pen on the paper before hearing the sound of the light switch and the murmur of her prayers in the darkness. Only then did he go to sleep, trusting that on the following day the awaited opportunity would come. He became so inspired with the idea that permission would be granted that one morning he cut his hair, which at that time reached down to his shoulders, shaved off his tangled beard, put on some tight-fitting pants and a shirt with an artificial collar that he had inherited from he did not know whom, and waited in the kitchen for Fernanda to get her breakfast. The woman of every day, the one with her head held high and with a stony gait, did not arrive, but an old woman of supernatural beauty with a yellowed ermine cape, a crown of gilded cardboard, and the languid look of a person who wept in secret. Actually, ever since she had found it in Aureliano Segundo’s trunks, Fernanda had put on the moth-eaten queen’s dress many times. Anyone who could have seen her in front of the mirror, in ecstasy over her own regal gestures, would have had reason to think that she was mad. But she was not. She had simply turned the royal regalia into a device for her memory. The first time that she put it on she could not help a knot from forming in her heart and her eyes filling with tears because at that moment she smelled once more the odor of shoe polish on the boots of the officer who came to get her at her house to make her a queen, and her soul brightened with the nostalgia of her lost dreams. She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst, and only then did she discover how much she missed the whiff of oregano on the porch and the smell of the roses at dusk, and even the bestial nature of the parvenus. Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude. Nevertheless, the morning on which she entered the kitchen and found a cup of coffee offered her by a pale and bony adolescent with a hallucinated glow in his eyes, the claws of ridicule tore at her. Not only did she refuse him permission, but from then on she carried the keys to the house in the pocket where she kept the unused pessaries. It was a useless precaution because if he had wanted to, Aureliano could have escaped and even returned to the house without being seen. But the prolonged captivity, the uncertainty of the world, the habit of obedience had dried up the seeds of rebellion in his heart. So that he went back to his enclosure, reading and rereading the parchments and listening until very late at night to Fernanda sobbing in her bedroom. One morning he went to light the fire as usual and on the extinguished ashes he found the food that he had left for her the day before. Then he looked into her bedroom and saw her lying on the bed covered with the ermine cape, more beautiful than ever and with her skin turned into an ivory casing. Four months later, when Jos?Arcadio arrived, he found her intact.

      从圣索菲娅·德拉佩德为奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚买回一本梵文语法书的那一天起,时间不觉过了三年多,奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚才译出一页羊皮纸手稿,毫无疑问,他在从事一项浩大的工程,但在那条长度无法测量的道路上,他只是迈开了第一步,因为翻译成西班牙文一时还毫无希望——那都是些用密码写成的诗。奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚并没有掌握什么原始资料,以便找到破译这种密码的线索,他不由得想起梅尔加德斯曾说过,在博学的加泰隆尼亚人那家书店里,还有一些能使他洞悉羊皮纸手稿深刻含义的书,他决定跟菲兰达谈一次,要求菲兰达让他去找这些书。他的房间里垃圾成堆,垃圾堆正以惊人的速度扩大,差不多已经占满了所有的空间;奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚斟酌了这次谈话的每个字眼,考虑最有说服力的表达方式。预测各种最有利的情况。可是,他在厨房里遇见正从炉子上取下食物的菲兰达时——他没有跟菲兰达见面的其他机会,——他事先想好的那些话一下子都卡在喉咙里了,一声也没吭。他开始第一次跟踪菲兰达,窥伺她在卧室里走动,倾听他怎样走到门口从邮差手里接过儿女的来信,然后把自己的信交给邮差;一到深夜,他就留神偷听羽毛笔在纸上生硬的沙沙声,直到菲兰达啪的一声关了灯,开始喃喃祈祷,奥雷连诺。 布恩蒂亚这才入睡,相信翌日会给他带来希望的机会。他一心一意指望得到菲兰达的允许,有一天早晨,他剪短了自己已经披到了肩上的头发,刮掉了一绺绺胡子,穿上一条牛仔裤和一件不知从谁那儿继承的扣领衬衫,走到厨房里去等候菲兰达来取吃食。但他遇见的不是从前每天出现在他面前的那个女人——一个高傲地昂首阔步的女人,而是一个异常美丽的老太婆,她身穿一件发黄的银鼠皮袍,头戴一顶硬纸板做成的金色王冠,一副倦怠模样儿,似乎在这之前还独自哭了好一阵。自从菲兰达在奥雷连诺第二的箱子里发现了这套虫子蛀坏的女王服装,她就经常把它穿在自己身上。凡是看见她在镜子前面转动身子,欣赏她那女王仪客的人,都毫无疑问地会把她当成一个疯子,但她并没有疯。对她来说,女王的服装只是成了她忆起往事的工具。她头一次把它穿上以后,不由得感到心里一阵辛酸,热泪盈眶,她好象又闻到了军人皮靴上散发出来的靴油味,那军人跟在她身后,想把她扮成一个女王;她满心怀念失去的幻想。但她感到自己已经那么衰老,那么憔悴,离开那些最 美好的生活时刻已经那么遥远,她甚至怀念起了她一直认为最黑暗的日子,这时她才明白自己多么需要风儿吹过长廊带来的牛至草味儿,需要黄昏时分玫瑰花丛里袅袅升起的烟尘,甚至需要禽兽一般鲁莽的外国人,她的心——凝成一团的灰烬——虽然顺利地顶住了日常忧虑的沉重打击,却在怀旧的初次冲击下破碎了。她渴望在悲痛中寻求喜悦;随着岁月的流逝,这种渴求只是使菲兰达的心灵更加空虚,于是这种渴求也成了一种祸害。从此,孤独就使她变得越来越象家里其他的人了。然而那天早晨,她走进厨房,那个脸色苍白、瘦骨鳞峋、眼露惊讶的年轻人递给她一杯咖啡时,她不由得为自己的怪诞模样深感羞愧。菲兰达不但拒绝奥雷连诺·布恩蒂亚的要求,还把房子的钥匙藏在那只放着宫托的秘密口袋里。这实在是一种多余的防范措施,因为奥雷连诺。布恩蒂亚只要愿意,随时都可以溜出房子去,并且神不知鬼不觉地回来。但他过了多年孤独的生活,对周围的世界毫不信任,何况又养成了屈从的习惯,也就丧失了反抗的精神。他回到自己的斗室,一面继续研究羊皮纸手稿,一面倾听深夜里菲兰达卧室时里传来的沉重的叹息声,有一天早晨,他照例到厨房里去生炉子,却在冷却了的灰烬上,发现昨夜为菲兰达留下的午餐动也没有动过。他忍不住朝她的卧室里瞥了一眼,只见菲兰达挺直身子躺在床上,盖着那件银鼠皮袍,显得从未有过的美丽,皮肤变得象大理石那样光滑洁白。四个月以后,霍·阿卡蒂奥回到马孔多时,看见她就是这副模样。

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