樹上的男爵

By+Italo+Calvino

《樹上的男爵》是意大利作家伊塔洛·卡爾維諾創(chuàng)作的三部曲《我們的祖先》里最長的一篇。故事發(fā)生在18世紀(jì)意大利南部的翁布羅薩地區(qū)，貴族家庭長子及未來的爵位繼承者柯希莫（Cosimo）因拒絕吃蝸牛，一氣之下離家出走，爬到樹上，并在樹上度過了自己的余生，再也沒有踏回到地上。這種做法盡乎荒唐，幾乎不可思議，樹上的生活使柯希莫擺脫了貴族生活繁文縟節(jié)的束縛，但也給他帶來極大的不便，他在樹上過的幾乎是原始人一般的生活。然而柯希莫是一個心甘情愿以自己的生命堅守規(guī)矩的人，哪怕犧牲寶貴的愛情。因為無論對他還是對別人，一旦破了這條規(guī)矩，柯希莫便不再是柯希莫了。

It was on 15 June 1767 that Cosimo Piovasco di Rondo， my brother， sat among us for the last time. And it might have been today， I remember it so clearly. We were in the dining-room of our house at Ombrosa（翁布羅薩）， the windows framing the thick branches of the great holm oak（圣櫟樹）in the park. It was midday， the old traditional dinner hour followed by our family， though by then most nobles had taken to the fashion set by the sluggard（游手好閑的）Court of France of dining halfway through the afternoon. A breeze was blowing from the sea， I remember， rustling（使沙沙作響）the leaves. Cosimo said： “I told you I dont want any， and I dont！” and pushed away his plateful of snails. Never had we seen such disobedience（違抗）.

A few months before， Cosimo having reached the age of twelve and I of eight， we had been admitted to the parental board； I had benefited by my brothers promotion and been moved up prematurely， so that I should not be left to eat alone. “Benefited” is perhaps scarcely the word； for really it meant the end of our carefree life， Cosimos and mine， and we regretted the meals in our little room， alone with the Abbe（神父）Fauchelefleur. Our meals in the Abbes company used to begin， after many a prayer， with ordered ritual， silent movements of spoons， and woe（悲哀）to anyone who raised his eyes from his plate or made the slightest sucking noise with the soup； but by the end of the first dish the Abbe was already tired， bored， looking into space and smacking（咂嘴）his lips at every sip of wine， as if only the most fleeting（轉(zhuǎn)瞬即逝的）and superficial sensations（興奮）could get through to him； by the main dish we were using our hands， and throwing pear cores（果核）at each other by the end of the meal， while the Abbe every now and again let out one of his languid（倦怠的）， “... Oooo bien（法語，好的）！... Oooo alors [法語，哎！（表示不耐煩、憤怒等）].”

Now， at table with the family， up came surging the intimate grudges（充斥著親密又怨恨的情緒）that are such a burden of childhood. Having our father and mother always there in front of us， using knives and forks for the chicken， keeping our backs straight and our elbows down， what a strain it all was！ —not to mention the presence of that sister of ours， Battista. So began a series of scenes， spiteful exchanges（惡言相向）， punishments， pinpricks（令人煩惱的小事）， until the day when Cosimo refused snails and decided to separate his fate from ours.

These accumulating（積累的）family resentments I myself only noticed later； then I was eight， everything seemed a game， the struggle between us boys and grown-ups was the usual one all children play， and I did not realize that my brothers stubbornness（固執(zhí)）hid something much deeper.

Our father the Baron was a bore（無聊的人）， its true， though not a bad man： a bore because his life was dominated by conflicting ideas， as often happens in periods of transition（歷史轉(zhuǎn)換時期）. The movements of the times makes people feel a need to move themselves， but in the opposite direction， away from the road； so， with things stirring all round him， our father had set his heart on regaining the lapsed title of Duke of Ombrosa（重新獲得已經(jīng)失效的或轉(zhuǎn)歸他人的翁布羅薩公爵的頭銜）， and thought of nothing but genealogies（宗譜）and successions（繼承權(quán)）and family rivalries and alliances with grandees near and far（跟遠(yuǎn)近的達(dá)官貴族們建立聯(lián)盟）.

Life at our home was a constant dress rehearsal for an appearance at court， either the Emperor of Austrias， King Louiss， or even the mountain court of Turin（都靈，意大利城市）. When， for instance， a turkey was served， our father would watch carefully to see if we carved and boned（切開并剔去骨頭）it according to royal rules， and the Abbe scarcely dared touch a morsel（一口）lest（唯恐）he made some error of etiquette（禮節(jié)，禮儀）， for poor man， he had to put up with our fathers rebukes（指責(zé)）too. And we saw now a deceitful side of the Cavalier Carrega（卡雷加騎士）； he would smuggle away（偷運）whole legs under the folds of his Turkish robe， to munch（大聲咀嚼）them up bit by bit later， at his ease， hidden in the vineyard（葡萄園）； and we could have sworn （although we never succeeded in catching him in the act， his movements were so quick） that he came to table with a pocketful of stripped bones（一滿袋剔干凈的骨頭）， which he left on the table in place of the hunks（大塊）of turkey he whisked away（迅速撣進(jìn)他的袍子里）. Our mother， the Generalessa， did not worry us， as even when serving herself at table she used brusque（直率的）military manners， “So！ Noch ein wenig！ Gut！”（繼續(xù)！再多一點兒！好！）and no one found fault with her： she held us not to etiquette， but to discipline， supporting the Baron with parade-ground（閱兵場）orders， “Sitz ruhig！（坐直！）And clean your nose！” The only person really at ease was Battista， the nun of the house， who would sit shredding（撕成碎片）her chicken with minute concentration（細(xì)心，專注）， fibre by fibre， using some sharp little knives， rather like surgeons scalpels（外科醫(yī)生的手術(shù)刀）， which she alone had. The Baron， who should have held her up to us as an example， did not dare look at her， for， with her staring eyes under the starched wings（上過漿的帽檐）， her narrow teeth set tight in her yellow rodents（嚙齒類動物的）face， she frightened him too. So it can be seen why our family board（全家人在一張餐桌上吃飯）brought out all the antagonisms（對抗）， the incompatibilities（不相容）， between us， and all our follies（愚蠢，荒唐）and hypocrisies（虛偽）too； and why it was there that Cosimos rebellion came to a head（達(dá)到最高點）. That is why I have described it at some length—and anyway it is the last set table we shall find in my brothers life， thats sure.

We had devised a plan. When the Cavalier brought home a basket full of eatable snails， these were put into a barrel（木桶）in the cellar（地窖）， so they should starve， or eat only bran（麩，糠）and so be purged（清理腸道）. On moving the planks（木板）covering these barrels an inferno（地獄）was revealed； snails moving up the staves（狹板）with a languor（無精打采）which was already a presage（預(yù)兆）of their death agony， amid remnants（殘留物）of bran， streaks（條痕）of opaque clotted slime（不透明的、凝結(jié)的黏液）and multicolored excrement（排泄物）， mementoes（紀(jì)念品）of the good old days of open air and grass. Some of them were right outside their shells with heads extended and horns waving， some all curled up（蜷曲）in themselves， showing a different pair of antennae（觸須）； others were grouped like village gossips， others shut and sleeping， others dead with their shells upside down. To save them from meeting that sinister（邪惡的）cook， and to save us from her administrations too， we made a hole in the bottom of the barrel， and from there traced as hidden a train（跟蹤隱藏在桶下面的一個長長的隊列）as we could， with bits of chewed grass and honey， behind barrels and various tools in the cellar， to draw the snails towards a little window giving on to a neglected（被忽視的，不易發(fā)覺的）grass-grown path.

But that restless（不安分的）creature， our sister Battista， used to spend the nights wandering around the house in search of mice， holding a candelabra（大燭臺）， with a musket（滑膛槍）under her arm. That night she went down into the cellar， and the candlelight shone on a lost snail on the ceiling， with its trail of silvery slime. A shot rang out. We all started in our beds， but soon dropped our heads back onto the pillows， used as we were to the night hunts of our resident nun. But Battista， having destroyed the snail and brought down a hunk of plaster（一塊灰泥）with her instinctive shot， now began to shout in that strident（刺耳的）voice of hers： “Help！ Theyre all escaping！ Help！”

Everyone began hunting the snails all over the cellar by the light of torches. They found the hole in the barrel， and at once realized we had made it. Our father came with the coachmans whip（馬車夫的鞭子）and seized us from bed. Then， our backs， buttocks（屁股）and legs covered with violet weals（紫色的鞭痕）， we were locked into the squalid（骯臟的）little room used as a prison.

They kept us there three days， on bread， water， lettuce（生菜）， beef rinds（外皮）and cold soup（which， luckily， we liked）. Then， as if nothing had happened， we were brought out for our first family meal at midday on that fifteenth of June； and what should the kitchen superintendent（主管）， our sister Battista， have prepared for us but snail soup and snails as a main course！ Cosimo refused to touch even a mouthful. “Eat up or well shut you in the little room again！” I yielded（屈服）and began to chew the wretched molluscs（不幸的軟體動物）[a cowardice（怯懦）on my part which had the effect of making my brother feel more alone than ever， so that his leaving us was also partly a protest against me for letting him down； but I was only eight years old， and then how can I compare my own strength of will， particularly as a child， to the superhuman tenacity（固執(zhí)，堅韌）which my brother showed throughout his life？].

“Well？” said our father to Cosimo.

“No， and no again！” exclaimed Cosimo， and pushed his plate away.

“Leave the table！”

But Cosimo had already turned his back on us all and was leaving the room.

“Where are you going？”

We saw him through the windows climbing up the holm oak. He was dressed up in the most formal clothes and head-dress（頭飾）， as our father insisted on his appearing at table in spite of his twelve years of age； powdered hair（施了粉的頭發(fā)）with a ribbon in the queue（辮子）， tricorne（船形帽）， lace stock（領(lǐng)圈，領(lǐng)帶）and ruffles（褶邊）， green tunic（束腰外衣）with pointed tails， flesh-colored stockings， rapier（長劍）， and long white leather gaiters（長筒橡膠靴）halfway up his legs， the only concession（讓步）to a mode of dressing more suitable to our country life. [I， being only eight， was exempted（免除）from powdered hair except on gala occasions（節(jié)日或慶祝的場合）， and from the rapier， which I should have liked to wear.] So he climbed up the knobbly（多結(jié)的）old tree， moving his arms and legs along the branches with the sureness and speed which came to him from years of practice together， he and I.

“Vorsicht！ Vorsicht！（小心）Now hell fall down， poor little thing！” anxiously exclaimed our mother， who would not have turned a hair（不動神色）at seeing us under cannon fire（炮火）， but was in agony meanwhile at our games.

Cosimo climbed up to the fork of a big branch where he could settle comfortably and sat himself down there， his legs dangling（搖晃）， his arms crossed with hands tucked（收攏）under his elbows， his head buried in his shoulders， his tricorne hat tilted（傾斜的）over his forehead.

Our father leant out of the window-sill（窗臺）.“When youre tired of being up there， youll change your ideas！” he shouted.

“Ill never change my ideas，” exclaimed my brother from the branch.

“Youll see as soon as you come down！”

“Then Ill never come down again！” And he kept his words.