Awakened by a Grave Robbery

Greg Bellow

On a visit to Chicago when I was eight, I witnessed a terrible argument, in Yiddish1. Yiddish： 意第緒語，中東歐猶太人及其在各國(guó)的后裔說的一種從高地德語派生的語言。,between my father and grandfather.Driving away from his father’s house, Saul started to cry so bitterly he had to pull off the road. After a few minutes, he excused his lapse of self-control by saying, “It’s okay for grownups to cry.” I knew his heart was breaking. I knew because of the bond between my father’s tender heart and mine.

I grew up in a household filled with books and lively conversation, bound together by a commitment to seeking and telling the truth. I came to share the value my parents placed on culture,which included the quiet solitude2. solitude： 獨(dú)處，隱居。that my father thought essential to writing. His study door was firmly closed every morning, a sign of the barrier Saul drew between writing and living. For decades I ferociously3. ferociously： 殘忍地，兇猛地。protected his privacy, literary and personal, which both of us connected with those

hours of his writing day. As a child I learned not to disturb him. As an adult I turned a blind eye to the literary persona and to the public furor over his fame, which reached an apex in Stockholm.After 1976 I boycotted all events held in his honor.Saul became offended, but I felt the limelight contaminated the private bond I was trying to protect.4. limelight： 聚光燈，這里指面對(duì)公眾的曝光；contaminate：污染，弄臟。

格雷格·貝婁的書《索爾·貝婁的內(nèi)心：一個(gè)兒子的回憶》

八歲那年，我在芝加哥親眼目睹了一場(chǎng)用意第緒語進(jìn)行的可怕爭(zhēng)執(zhí)，爭(zhēng)吵雙方是我的父親與祖父。從祖父家開車回程的途中，索爾，我的父親，失聲痛哭，以至于不得不把車停在路旁。過了好幾分鐘，父親才為自己的情緒失控作出解釋：“大人哭鼻子也是正常的?！蔽耶?dāng)時(shí)已能明白他的心碎。我能明白是因?yàn)樵谖遗c父親的柔弱心靈之間有著一條不可割裂的紐帶。

我成長(zhǎng)在一個(gè)充滿書籍與歡聲笑語的家庭環(huán)境中，這樣的家庭環(huán)境還要求每位成員恪守尋求和辨明真理的承諾。我慢慢學(xué)會(huì)了分享父母賦予家庭文化的價(jià)值，其中包括安靜獨(dú)處，父親認(rèn)為這對(duì)于寫作來說至關(guān)重要。每天清晨，父親書房的門都緊閉著，這扇門是一個(gè)符號(hào)，是他將寫作與生活隔開的屏障。幾十年來，我竭力保護(hù)著父親文學(xué)創(chuàng)作與個(gè)人生活的隱私，這也是在父親寫作的日子里我與他的共通之處。小時(shí)候，我就學(xué)會(huì)不去打擾父親。長(zhǎng)大成人以后，我對(duì)他筆下的文學(xué)形象以及公眾對(duì)父親聲望的狂熱故意視而不見，特別是在斯德哥爾摩的時(shí)候。1976年以后，我抵制了所有以父親名義舉辦的活動(dòng)。父親被激怒了，而我卻感到外界的過度曝光玷污了我力圖保護(hù)的那層父子私人關(guān)系。

索爾·貝婁

作家總是試圖用自己敏銳的洞察力和犀利的筆觸，對(duì)人與人性作出精妙的分析與思考。然而他們自己又是怎樣在別人的眼中或筆下被詮釋的呢？索爾·貝婁，這位被公認(rèn)為美國(guó)當(dāng)代最負(fù)盛名的作家之一，在公眾看來，是諾貝爾文學(xué)獎(jiǎng)、普利策獎(jiǎng)光芒照耀下的文壇巨匠。他對(duì)當(dāng)代文化富于人性的理解和分析讓人景仰，無數(shù)的作家追隨他，以能成為他的文學(xué)后裔為榮；在親人眼中，他卻褪盡鉛華，真實(shí)而可愛可敬。大眾媒體對(duì)一個(gè)人的解讀往往隨波逐流，挾持了人們的認(rèn)知與良知。對(duì)于那些逝去的偉大靈魂我們是其盜墓者還是守陵人，值得深思。

The posthumous5. posthumous： 死后的，逝世后的。tributes to the author who altered American literature came as no surprise.Hoping that my son Andrew, who took no interest in Saul’s literary career, would learn a bit about a grandfather who had paid him scant attention,I urged him to watch the discussion of Saul that aired soon after his death on thePBS NewsHour.The next day Andrew said, “What was all the fuss about Grandpa changing American literature?He was just a grouchy6. grouchy： 脾氣不好的，易怒的。old man.” Andrew’s response succinctly captured a distinction between the private man and the literary lion that was beginning to dawn on me.

一位改變了美國(guó)文學(xué)的作家在其死后仍受到贊美與敬仰，這不足為奇。我的兒子安德魯卻對(duì)祖父的文學(xué)生涯毫無興趣，但我依然希望他能多了解一些他祖父的生平，盡管他的祖父生前對(duì)這位孫兒的關(guān)注并不多。我急切地要求安德魯觀看公共電視臺(tái)《新聞時(shí)間》節(jié)目在父親逝世后不久對(duì)其生平進(jìn)行的討論。第二天，安德魯對(duì)我說：“爺爺改變了美國(guó)文學(xué)，有什么值得大驚小怪？他不就是個(gè)脾氣古怪的老頭兒?jiǎn)?？”兒子的話一針見血地道明了一位至親和一名文壇巨匠的區(qū)別，讓我恍然大悟。

As soon as Saul died, his lawyer, Walter Pozen,set the tone for what was to come. Instead of calling the family, Walter phoned the public media.I learned of my father’s death on my car radio. The chosen speakers at Saul’s funeral were Martin Amis,the literary “son”, and Ruth Wisse, the dutiful7. dutiful： 忠實(shí)的，順從的。Jewish“daughter”. Though no family members were asked to speak, I rose to praise Saul’s widow, Janis, for her devotion during my father’s last years. Strangely silent was another literary heir, Philip Roth, who, like a kind of brooding Hamlet, wandered the edges of the funeral in deep thought. Soon thereafter, theNew Yorkerpublished a series of rambling letters Saul had written to Philip about the origins of his novels,which I thought underlined the uniqueness of the deep literary connection between them.

To keep my grief private, I avoided the flood of obituaries until urged to read Leon Wieseltier’s tribute in theNew Republic. I was not surprised that he looked up to my father as an intellect or found him a man of great charm and wit. But his tribute was so complete a conflation8. conflation： 合并，合成。of the famous author and my father, the man, that I could barely recognize Saul. As well, Mr. Wieseltier seemed to have found the basis of a deep rapport with my father that touched on personal affections I considered my birthright. In the following weeks I heard and read many anecdotes and accounts that claimed a similar special closeness with Saul Bellow the literary patriarch9. patriarch： 族長(zhǎng)，元老。. I took them to be distinctly filial and soon came to feel that dozens of self-appointed sons and daughters were jostling in public for a position at the head of a parade that celebrated my father’s life. By now irked10. irk： 使煩惱，使厭倦。by the shoving match at the front of the line, I asked myself, “What is it with all these filial narratives? After all, he was my father! Did they all have such lousy fathers that they needed to co-opt mine?”

Infuriating11. infuriating： 令人憤怒的。as they were, the filial narratives and flood of posthumous tributes awakened me to the powerful effect of my father’s novels, to his status as a cultural hero, and to my lack of appreciation of the public side of him that I had been trying to avoid.

父親剛離世，他的律師沃爾特·波曾就為接下來的事情定下了基調(diào)。他并沒在第一時(shí)間告知家屬，而是給媒體打了電話。我是從車載收音機(jī)里得知父親的死訊。在父親的葬禮上，被選作發(fā)言人的是被譽(yù)為其“文學(xué)之子”的馬丁·艾米斯，以及孝順的猶太裔“女兒”露絲·威斯。盡管葬禮上沒有一位真正的家庭成員受邀發(fā)言，我站起來贊美了父親的遺孀，詹妮絲，感謝了她在父親最后的日子里所奉獻(xiàn)的一切。而父親的另一位文學(xué)后裔，菲利普·羅斯卻出奇地沉默， 他就像是憂傷的哈姆雷特，在葬禮現(xiàn)場(chǎng)的四周來回踱步沉思。此后不久，《紐約客》雜志發(fā)表了一系列父親寫給菲利普的信，這些漫無邊際的信件揭示了父親小說的起源。我想，這也凸顯了他們?cè)谖膶W(xué)上不同尋常的不解之緣。

為了獨(dú)自懷念父親，我避開了洪水般的訃告，直到被要求去讀讀里昂·威塞爾迪阿在《新共和國(guó)周刊》上發(fā)表的一篇悼文。對(duì)他對(duì)父親才能的敬仰以及對(duì)父親偉大人格魅力與智慧的發(fā)掘，我并未感到驚訝。但他在這篇文章里將我的父親和他偉大作家的身份結(jié)合在一起，我?guī)缀鯚o法認(rèn)出他筆下的人物就是我父親。此外，威塞爾迪阿先生似乎還找到了與我父親建立深層次關(guān)系的基礎(chǔ)，而我認(rèn)為其所涉及的個(gè)人情感應(yīng)是我與生俱來的權(quán)利。在接下來的數(shù)周里，我聽到并讀到了許多人回憶與我父親的軼事，他們都宣稱自己與索爾·貝婁這位文壇元老有著類似的、獨(dú)一無二的親密關(guān)系。起初，我認(rèn)為他們這樣做是出于對(duì)父親真心的孝順，可很快我便察覺好些自詡為文學(xué)后裔的人，為了在悼念父親生平的游行中爭(zhēng)奪最前面的位置而公開推搡?，F(xiàn)在，這些發(fā)生在隊(duì)伍前端的角斗已讓我惱怒，我問自己：“這都是些什么孝順的故事？不管怎樣，他是我的父親！他們自己的父親是有多糟以至于要來搶我的父親？”

那些孝順的故事，以及鋪天蓋地的悼念令我憤慨，但同時(shí)也讓我清醒地認(rèn)識(shí)到父親小說的影響力有多么強(qiáng)大，他作為文化英雄這一地位有多么重要，以及我對(duì)他作為公眾人物的影響力缺乏欣賞，甚至一直都在刻意回避這一點(diǎn)。

童年的格雷格·貝婁和父親索爾·貝婁

As I grieved and as the distinctions between the private man and the public hero were filtering through my consciousness, someone suggested I might find solace12. solace： 安慰，慰藉。in reading Philip Roth’sPatrimony. Roth’s decision to write about his father’s last days forced me to think about what to do with the father who resides within me—a man whose deepest desire was to keep his thoughts and his feelings strictly to himself…

Despite my doubts about writing publicly, I have determined to learn more about my father, to reassess my patrimony as a writer’s son, and to have my say. I can no longer climb into Saul’s lap as he sat at the typewriter, hit the keys, and leave my gibberish in his manuscripts as I did at three. Nor can I visit Saul in his dotage and stir up fading embers of our past. I can visit his gravestone and, in the Jewish tradition, put another pebble on it. But my “Pop”deserves more from his firstborn, as full and as honest a written portrait as I can render. Shutting my study door and struggling to find my voice on paper as I listen to Brahms or Mozart, as he did every day for more than seventy years, is as close as I can now get to my dead father.

在我悲痛的時(shí)候，在我的意識(shí)將至親與公眾英雄兩者相區(qū)別的時(shí)候，有人建議我或許能從菲利普·羅斯的作品《遺產(chǎn)》中找到些許慰藉。羅斯打算寫寫他父親最后的那段日子，他的這一決定迫使我開始思考應(yīng)如何對(duì)待那個(gè)住在我內(nèi)心深處的父親——那個(gè)男人最深刻的欲望就是將他的思想和情感藏在自己心里，不讓別人知曉。

盡管我對(duì)公開地寫作心存疑慮，我依舊下定決心去更多地了解父親，去重新衡量作為一名作家的兒子所擁有的遺產(chǎn)，讓外界聽到我的聲音。父親再也不會(huì)坐在打字機(jī)前敲擊鍵盤并讓我爬上他的膝間，我也再不能像三歲孩童那樣將自己的胡言亂語留于他的手稿。同樣，我也再?zèng)]有機(jī)會(huì)在他耄耋之年進(jìn)行探望，或重新點(diǎn)燃我與他漸漸熄滅的過去。我只能來到他的墓前，按猶太人的傳統(tǒng)，再添上一枚卵石。作為長(zhǎng)子，我所受到的關(guān)注本應(yīng)更多，起碼我可以真實(shí)飽滿地寫出我父親的形象。如今我如父親七十多年來每天要做的那樣，關(guān)上書房的門，一邊聽著布拉姆斯和莫扎特，一邊在紙上竭力找尋著自己的聲音——這也是現(xiàn)在最能拉近我與逝去父親的方式。

格雷格·貝婁