On Reading in Bed论卧读

Among the few legacies that my father left me was a great talent for sleeping. I think I can say， without boasting， that in a sleeping match I could do as well as any man. I can sleep long， I can sleep often， and I can sleep sound. When I put my head on the pillow I pass into a fathomless peace where no dreams come， and about eight hours later I emerge to consciousness， as though I have come up from the deeps of infinity.

父亲留给我为数寥寥的几笔遗产，其中之一是超常的睡觉本领。可以说，在一场酣睡比赛中，我的表现定不会逊于其他任何人，这并非自夸。我可以睡得很久，可以频繁入睡，可以睡得香甜。我只要头一沾枕头就能进入一种无底的静谧状态，半点梦都不会做，约摸八个小时后才会醒，仿佛从无尽深渊中走出。

That is my normal way， but occasionally I have periods of wakefulness in the middle of the night. My sleep is then divided into two chapters， and between the chapters there is a slab of unmitigated1 dreariness. It is my hour of pessimism. The tide has ebbed， the water is dead-low， and there is a vista of endless mud. It is then that this tragi-comedy of life touches bottom， and I see the heavens all hung with black. I despair of humanity， I despair of the war， I despair of myself. There is not one gleam of light in all the sad landscape， and the abyss seems waiting at my feet to swallow me up with everything that I cherish. It is no use saying to this demon of the darkness that I know he is a humbug2， a mere Dismal Jemmy of the brain， who sits there croaking like a night owl or a tenth-rate journalist. My Dismal Jemmy is not to be exorcised by argument. He can only be driven out by a little sane companionship.

我一向如此，但偶尔也在半夜失眠。我的睡眠因此分做了两节。其间清醒时，我觉得极其沉闷。这是我的悲观时段。潮水退去，水位渐低，呈现在眼前的是一望无际的泥沼。彼时彼刻，人生的悲喜剧触底，我的思想被一片漆黑的夜空霸占。我对人性绝望，对战争绝望，对自己绝望。在这漫天凄凉的风景里，我看不到一丝光亮，深渊似乎就在我脚下，要把我和我所珍爱的一切全都吞掉。我想对这个黑暗魔鬼说我知道他是个耍把戏的骗子，不过是个存在于头脑中的忧郁化身，坐在那里像夜猫子或差劲的记者那样呱噪。但说这些毫无用处。这可怜的忧郁化身不会轻易被骂声驱除，只能用几分清醒的同伴之谊把他赶走。

So I turn on a light and call for one of my bedside friends. They stand there in noble comradeship， ready to talk， willing to remain silent， only asking to do my pleasure. Oh， blessed be the name of Gutenberg3， the Master Printer. A German？ I care not. Even if he had been a Prussian—which I rejoice to think he was not—I would still say： “Blessed be the name of Gutenberg，” though Sir Richard Cooper， M.P.， sent me to the Tower4 for it.

于是我打开灯，从床边随手抓起一本书。这些书可真把我当朋友，一本本立在那儿随时可与我交谈，也愿保持沉默，全随我高兴。噢，上帝保佑那个叫古腾堡的人——活字印刷大师。是个德国人？我不在乎。就算他是普鲁士人——我乐意认为他不是——我还是会说：“上帝保佑这个叫古腾堡的人。”只不过这样的话让国会议员理查德·库珀爵士听到，大概会把我关进监狱。

For Gutenberg is the Prometheus not of legend but of history. He brought down the sacred flame and scattered the darkness that lay on the face of the waters. He gave us the Daily Owl， it is true， but he made us also freemen of time and thought， companions of the saints and the sages， sharers in the wisdom and the laughter of the ages. Thanks to him I can， for the expenditure of a few shillings， hear Homer sing and Socrates talk and Rabelais laugh; I can go chivvying5 the sheep with Don Quixote and roaming the hills with Borrow; I can carry the whole universe of Shakespeare in my pocket， and call up spirits to drive Dismal Jemmy from my pillow.

因为古腾堡是普罗米修斯般的人物，不是神话传说中的，而是人类历史上的启明人。他送来了神圣的火种，驱散了弥漫在水面上的黑暗。的确，他让我们看到了《猫头鹰日报》，但他使我们成为时间和思想上的逍遥客，圣人和智者的伙伴，智慧的分享者和时代的快乐源泉。多亏了他，我花几先令，就能听荷马吟唱，听苏格拉底演讲，听拉伯雷大笑。我可以和堂吉诃德一起赶羊，同博罗一起漫游山丘；我可以将莎士比亚的整个天地装在口袋里，还可以召唤神灵来把忧郁化身从枕边赶走。

Who are these spirits？ In choosing them it is necessary to avoid the deep-browed argumentative fellows. I do not want Plato or Gibbon or any of the learned brotherhood by my bedside， nor the poets， nor the novelists， nor the dramatists， nor even the professional humorists. These are all capital fellows in their way， but let them stay downstairs. To the intimacy of the bedside I admit only the kindly fellows who come in their dressing-gowns and slippers， so to speak， and sit down and just talk to you as though they had known you ever since you were a little nipper6， and your father and your grandfather before you. Of course， there is old Montaigne7. What a glorious gossip he is！ What strange things he has to tell you， what a noble candour8 he shows！ He turns out his mind as carelessly as a boy turns out his pockets， and gives you the run of9 his whole estate. You may wander everywhere， and never see a board warning you to keep off the grass or reminding you that you are a trespasser.

这些神灵是谁呢？在抉择的时候，我定要避免那些睿智好辩的家伙。我不想让柏拉图、吉本这样博学的伙计出现在我的床边，也不想让诗人、小说家、剧作家乃至幽默作家伴我入睡。这些人都是各自领域的大人物，且让他们留在楼下吧。为了确保床边的亲密氛围，我只允许那些和蔼可亲的人进来，这些人就像穿着睡衣和拖鞋，坐下来同你聊天，仿佛他们在你孩童时期就认识你，还比你更早认识你的父亲和祖父。当然，老蒙田算一个。他是个多么健谈的人啊！他讲给你听的事多么新奇，他表现得无比坦荡！他就像孩子漫不经心地翻口袋般道出他的思想，让你自由出入他的整个庄园。你可以到处逛，不会看到让你远离草坪的警示或提醒你是非法侵入者的告示牌。

And Bozzy10. Who could do without Bozzy by his bedside—dear， garrulous old Bozzy， most splendid of toadies， most miraculous of reporters？ When Bozzy begins to talk to me， and the old Doctor growls “Sir，” all the worries and anxieties of life fall magically away， and Dismal Jemmy vanishes like the ghost at cock-crow. I am no longer imprisoned in time and the flesh： I am of the company of the immortals. I share their triumphant aloofness from the play that fills our stage and see its place in the scheme of the unending drama of men.

还有鲍齐。谁能没有他在自己的床边呢。老顽童鲍齐，喋喋不休的一流马屁精，最非凡的记录者。当鲍齐开始和我聊天，老约翰逊博士咆哮着“先生”时，生活中的所有烦恼和焦虑都奇迹般消失了，阴魂不散的忧郁化身像黎明破晓时分的鬼魂般悄然消散。我不再被时间和肉体囚禁；我与不朽同在。我和他们一样，对舞台正上演的这场戏抱持洋洋得意的超然态度，看得清它在人类无休止的戏剧体系中的一席之地。

That sly rogue Pepys11， of course， is there—more thumb-stained than any of them except Bozzy. What a miracle is this man who lives more vividly in our eyes than any creature that ever walked the earth！ What was the secret of his magic？ Is it not this， that he succeeded in putting down on paper the real truth about himself？ A small thing？ Well， you try it. You will find it the hardest job you have ever tackled. No matter what you adopt you will discover that you cannot tell yourself the whole truth about yourself. Pepys did that. Benvenuto Cellini12 pretended to do that， but I refuse to believe the fellow. Benjamin Franklin tried to do it and very nearly succeeded. St. Augustine13 was frank enough about his early wickedness， but it was the overcharged frankness of the subsequent saint. No， Pepys is the man. He did the thing better than it has ever been done in this world.