The Making of a New Yorker成为纽约人

【导读】约翰·斯坦贝克（1902—1968）是美国著名作家，1940年凭借长篇小说《愤怒的葡萄》（The Grapes of Wrath）获得了普利策奖，1962年又凭借小说《人鼠之间》（Of Mice and Men）获得了诺贝尔文学奖。斯坦贝克出生在加利福尼亚一个叫萨利纳斯的小镇，后来定居纽约。本文最早发表在1953年2月1日的《纽约时报》上，讲述了他1925年初到纽约，并逐渐爱上这座城市的过程。

New York is the only city I have ever lived in. I have lived in the country， in the small town， and in New York. It is true I have had apartments in San Francisco， Mexico City， Los Angeles， Paris， and sometimes have stayed for months， but that is a very different thing. As far as homes go， there is only a small California town and New York. This is a matter of feeling.

纽约是我住过的唯一一座城市。我在乡下住过，在小镇上住过，也在纽约住过。当然，我也在旧金山、墨西哥城、洛杉矶和巴黎住过公寓，有时还一住好几个月，但那是完全不同的体验。能称得上家的，只有加利福尼亚的一个小镇和纽约。这是个感情问题。

The transition from small town to New York is a slow and rough process. I am writing it not because I think my experience was unique; quite the contrary. I suspect that the millions of New Yorkers who were not born here have had much the same experience—at least parallel experiences.

从小镇居民变成纽约人，是一个缓慢而又艰难的过程。我之所以要写写这个过程，并不是觉得自己的经历独一无二，而是恰恰相反。在我看来，数百万并非在此出生的纽约人，都有几乎相同的经历——至少也是相似的经历。

When I came the first time to New York in 1925 I had never been to a city in my life. I arrived on a boat， tourist， one hundred dollars. It was November. ...

1925年，我第一次来纽约，那也是我人生第一次进城。我是坐船来旅游的，就带了100美元。当时正逢11月。……

From a porthole， then， I saw the city， and it horrified me. There was something monstrous about it—the tall buildings looming to the sky and the lights shining through the falling snow. I crept ashore—frightened and cold and with a touch of panic in my stomach. This Dick Whittington1 didn’t even have a cat.

那会儿，我从舷窗望去，望见了这座城市，它让我感到恐惧。一座座高楼直插云霄，灯光透过飘落的雪花闪闪发亮——模样畸怪可怕。我在惊恐和寒冷中蹑手蹑脚地爬上了岸，心里带着一丝恐慌。我这个迪克·惠廷顿可是连只猫都没有啊。

I wasn’t really bad off. I had a sister in New York and she had a good job. She had a husband and he had a good job. My brother-in-law got me a job as a laborer and I found a room three flights up in Fort Greene Place in Brooklyn. That is about as alone as you can get…

其实，我的境况并不算糟。我有个姐姐在纽约，她有一份不错的工作。她有个丈夫，工作也不错。姐夫给我找了个体力活，我在布鲁克林区的格林堡广场边找了个要爬三段楼梯的房间。对于一个形单影只的人来说，能有的大概就是这些了……

I was going to live in New York but I was going to avoid it. I planted a lawn in the garden， bought huge pots and planted tomatoes， pollinating the blossoms with a water-color brush. But I can see now that a conspiracy was going on， of which I was not even aware. I walked miles through the streets for the exercise， and began to know the butcher and the news dealer and the liquor man， not as props or as enemies but as people.

我既要住在纽约，又要避开纽约。我在花园里种了一块草坪，买了些大花盆，种上西红柿，拿水彩画刷给花朵授粉。现在我能看出，那时冥冥之中将要发生什么，只是当时我没有意识到。我会在街上走几英里权当锻炼，慢慢认识了屠户、报贩和酒商。他们既不是同伴，也不是敌人，就是普通的人。

I have talked to many people about this and it seems to be a kind of mystical experience. The preparation is unconscious， the realization happens in a flaming second. It was on Third Avenue. The trains were grinding over my head. The snow was nearly waist high in the gutters and uncollected garbage was scattered in the dirty mess. The wind was cold， and frozen pieces of paper went scraping along the pavement. I stopped to look in a drug-store window where a latex cooch dancer was undulated by a concealed motor—and something burst in my head， a kind of light and a kind of feeling blended into an emotion which if it had spoken would have said， “My God！ I belong here. Isn’t this wonderful？”

有件事，我跟很多人说过。那仿佛是一种神秘的体验。在无意识间做了准备，又在电光石火间突然领悟。那是在第三大道。火车从我头顶上隆隆驶过，阴沟里积雪几近齐腰，没收走的垃圾散落，凌乱不堪。结冰的纸片在刺骨寒风中刮擦着人行道。我停下脚步，望着一家药店的橱窗，里面有个乳胶做的扭肚舞女人偶，在隐蔽的马达驱动下摇摆晃动。脑中突然冒出了一种东西，那是一种光和一种感觉，两者相融，化为一种情绪。如果这种情绪能开口，必然会说：“天哪！我属于这里。这不是太棒了吗？”

Everything fell into place. I saw every face I passed. I noticed every doorway and the stairways to apartments. I looked across the street at the windows， lace curtains and potted geraniums through sooty glass. It was beautiful—but most important， I was part of it. I was no longer a stranger. I had become a New Yorker.

一切都变得清晰了起来。我看清了路过的每一张面孔。我注意到了每一扇大门和那些公寓楼梯。我望着街对面的窗子、蕾丝窗帘，还有隔着熏黑的玻璃看到的盆栽天竺葵。一切是那么美丽。最重要的是，我是这里的一部分。我不再是外来者。我成了一个纽约人。

Now there may be people who move easily into New York without travail， but most I have talked to about it have had some kind of trial by torture before acceptance. And the acceptance is a double thing. It seems to me that the city finally accepts you just as you finally accept the city.

现在，有人可能毫不费力就能轻松地融入纽约，但我跟很多人谈过，他们在被纽约接受之前，大都经历过某些痛苦的考验。这种接受是双向的。在我看来，当你最终接受这座城市的时候，它也终于接受了你。

A young man in a small town， a frog in a small puddle， if he kicks his feet is able to make waves， get mud in his neighbor’s eyes—make some impression. He is known. His family is known. People watch him with some interest， whether kindly or maliciously. He comes to New York and no matter what he does， no one is impressed. He challenges the city to fight and it licks him without being aware of him. This is a dreadful blow to a small town ego. He hates the organism that ignores him. He hates the people who look through him.

一个小镇上的年轻人，就像池塘中的一只青蛙，只要蹬蹬腿就能掀起波浪，把泥溅到邻居眼里——给人留下一些印象。人人都认识他。人人都认识他的家人。不管是出于善意还是恶意，人们都会饶有趣味地盯着他。可他一旦到了纽约，不管做什么，都不会有人注意他。他向纽约发起挑战，可这座城市看都不看他，就把他打败了。这严重打击了小镇人的自尊。他憎恶这个无视他的有机体。他憎恶那些没有将他放在眼里的人。