本帖最后由 墨涵 于 2009-9-5 19:12 编辑
《没有悲伤的城市》 陕西师范大学2009版 （加 艾拉尼 著，李馨萌 译） 【感谢duhaoshuhao推荐】
【作 者】 （加）艾拉尼 著，李馨萌 译
【内容简介】
全球最佳好书！畅销11国，感动世界的文学经典
他们生活在动荡不安的世界，饥饿、疾病、种族冲突……死亡随时发生。
他们却做着最纯美的梦——
他梦想自己能飞，全然不顾那累赘般的瘸腿；
他发明了花园语，在亲人死亡后含泪笑着说；
他从一朵花瓣里看到爱，从颜色里看到幸福；
他说世上有一个地方，没有战争、没有丑陋，只有鲜花，信任和爱。
他把这个地方叫做没有悲伤的城市。
他能找到吗？还是在现实中沉沦？
《没有悲伤的城市》——
一部关于梦想和友爱的书。
一个可以感动你灵魂的小说
一个给最绝望的人以希望的美好故事。
【作者简介】
阿诺什·艾拉尼，出生、成长于印度孟买，1998年移居温哥华。被加拿大《Quill＆Quire》杂志评选为当代新锐作家之一。 2004年，他的首部长篇《那残废和他的护身符》引起文坛瞩目。两年后的第二部作品《没有悲伤的城市》更是大放异彩，售出美国、法国、意大利、西班牙、希腊、以色列、葡萄牙，中国等十几国版权。
【目 录】
第一章 悲城
第二章 真相
第三章 逃离
第四章 遇见
第五章 心动
第六章 傻瓜
第七章 聚会
第八章 想飞
第九章 爆炸
第十章 自由
第十一章 报复
第十二章 未来
【书摘】
第一章 悲城
祥弟的手触到了自己的肋骨。
他试着把肋骨往回推，但是没有用，它们仍然从白背心里凸了出来。也许这是因为他只有十岁，等他再长大点，身上会有更多肉，肋骨就不这么明显了。这么想着，祥弟从孤儿院的台阶上走了下来。
祥弟光着脚站在院子里，他从来不穿拖鞋，因为他喜欢脚踩着热乎乎的土地的感觉。现在是一月初，离雨季还很远。尽管新的一年开始了，土地还是老样子，表面的裂缝比以前更深了。太阳直射着祥弟的黑头发，他不得不眯起眼睛。
祥弟伸开胳膊，向一面墙走去，在那儿他的世界结束了，而别人的世界开始了。走近那面墙，他听到了城市的声音——远处的汽车喇叭声以及电动车和摩托车的嗡嗡声。他知道孟买城比这还要喧闹得多，但是这个院子并不靠近大马路。墙外只是一个小市场，妇女们贩卖装在藤编篮子里的鱼和蔬菜，男人们蹲着给人掏耳朵，这样来挣几个卢比。
几只鸽子在墙头站成一排唧唧咕咕，墙头上插着碎玻璃，以防有人翻墙进到院子里来。祥弟心想，为什么会有人费劲潜入院子？孤儿院里又没什么可偷的。
一声很响的自行车铃声吓得两三只鸽子拍着翅膀飞走了，但是它们很快又重新占据了墙上的位置。墙上的玻璃片看来没有碍着鸽子们，它们知道将脚落在哪里。
祥弟摸着墙上的黑色石头，想着青苔会从上面长出来，他微笑。雨水会使墙上出现生机，但还得几个月他才能深深呼吸着自己喜欢的气味——第一阵雨的气味，来自满怀感激的土地得到了雨水的滋养，是他这一整年所梦想的。
只要孤儿院里能够闻到这样的气味，那就是整座城市最好的孤儿院了。
这十年对祥弟来说是艰难的，他现在开始明白很多事情。当他还是个孩子时，总有很多问题要问，但是现在那些问题似乎都有了答案，可他又害怕自己根本不喜欢那些答案。
他从墙边转过身来，向着一口用灰色水泥砌成的水井走去。
看着自己在水中的倒影，祥弟想自己究竟长得像妈妈还是爸爸。他相信自己的眼睛和妈妈一样，又大又黑。是妈妈还是爸爸把自己扔在这儿的？他想知道他们是否还活着。
祥弟一只脚跨上了井栏。
他的周围开放着三角梅，那是他最喜欢的花。粉粉的、红红的，洋溢着爱，祥弟想。如果这些花是人的话，会是世上最美的人。
祥弟的另一只脚也跨上了井栏，高高地站在上面。
孤儿院的窗户开着，他往里面瞧。大部分孩子在一张床上挤作一团，祥弟听见他们在唱“Railgaadi”。女孩们在模仿火车的咣当声，而男孩们在很快地大声喊出市镇的名字——曼达瓦、坎德瓦、赖布尔、斋浦尔、塔勒冈、马勒冈、委勒、绍拉布尔、戈尔哈布尔。祥弟心想，印度有这么多地方，可我一个都没去过。
他喜欢站在井栏上那么高的感觉。也许有一天自己会长到那么高，但这还需要很多年。而且就算他长高了，那又怎么样呢？他还是无处可去。总有一天他得离开孤儿院，没人能说再见，他走了也不会有人想他。
祥弟看着井里的水。水很静，他在想是不是要跳进去。他会灌进很多水，只要身体装得下。如果爸爸妈妈回来找他，就会发现他沉睡在井底。
想到这一点的时候，祥弟从井栏上下来了。
他朝着孤儿院快步走去，爬上了通往大堂的三级台阶。在那儿孩子们的胶皮拖鞋在地上整齐地排成一排，发黄、斑驳的墙上，一把黑伞挂在钉子上。
祥弟的脚丫在石头地板上留下了泥迹。他进了卧室，被吉奥蒂瞪了一眼，她正蹲着擦洗地板。她总是因为祥弟不穿拖鞋责骂他。
屋子里摆了二十张铁床，铁床面对面摆成两列，每列十张。床上铺着薄床垫，盖着白床单，不过没有枕头。因为吉奥蒂在擦洗地板，孩子们都待在床上。大部分人仍然挤在窗边的一张床上，玩着一种叫Antakshari的游戏。他们不再唱“Railgaadi”，而正在唱V打头的歌曲。
吉奥蒂仍然瞪着祥弟，她把一块厚厚的灰布放进水桶里，桶里有水和洗涤剂。她把布拍在地上。祥弟看着她笑了，吉奥蒂和丈夫拉曼在孤儿院工作了很多年，祥弟知道她不会怎么样自己的。他希望吉奥蒂停下来给他倒杯茶，但是只有在擦完地板后，她才会给孩子们倒茶喝。她今天往头发上抹了发油，屋里弥漫着发油和洗涤剂混合的味道。
祥弟往吉奥蒂的大绿桶里看了一眼，水又黑又脏，他想起了那口井。于是祥弟马上移开视线，朝祈祷室看去。他确信没人会知道他刚才想跳井的事，除了那个站在祈祷室里的人，那人就像个威风凛凛的巨人一样。
祥弟没脸见那个人，他为自己曾经的想法感到羞愧，尤其是那个人比祥弟知道的任何人受的罪都要多得多。
那个人就是耶稣。
即使耶稣的双眼一定在生前看到了大量的残忍，但在他的眼中丝毫都没有体现出来。祥弟最喜欢的是耶稣头上的光环，就像是耶稣发明了电一样。当祥弟看到一个父母健在的孩子开开心心而心生嫉妒时，祥弟想到了耶稣的遭遇，耶稣满怀爱心地来到这个世界，却被钉在十字架上，流着血，带着诋毁的言辞离开。
而当想到耶稣也曾经是个孩子，后来成了人们的领袖时，祥弟又觉得很受鼓励。可即使对耶稣说话确实使祥弟感到安慰，在他祈求什么的时候，依然会感到不舒服——每天早晨，所有的孩子在祈祷室集合，他们闭上眼睛祈求。祥弟觉得这不是真正的祈祷，对他来说，真正的祈祷意味着向神传递一种正面的想法，比如谢谢你或者我爱你。那才是祈祷，而你在那里提要求的时候，祈祷室就变成了市场。
他看了看周围，看有没有人在看着他，他不希望祈祷时别人也在。耶稣从来没有回答过祥弟，但是他觉得耶稣被人们那样对待之后，他也许根本就不会再信任人了，因而他接受了耶稣的沉默。
祥弟对耶稣说，从现在起，他会学着承受悲伤，就好比悲伤是多出来的一个脚趾头一样。当他说这些的时候，他知道耶稣会为他自豪。
祥弟觉得累了，想休息一下，但同时他又不希望离开耶稣的视线，于是就躺在石头地板上，把他的想法告诉耶稣：我一定试着开心起来。祥弟知道，比起那些盲人，生病的孩子，甚至身上伤痕累累的流浪狗，他的境遇要强得多了。
祥弟觉得舒服多了。现在他能闭上眼睛，做自己最想做的事了。那是从他一出生就开始的，或者也许是从三岁时开始的，他要想象他出生的城市——孟买。
祥弟一直在孤儿院里长大，没见识过孟买城。最近，他听到的关于孟买的事情又让他很心烦。管理孤儿院的萨迪克夫人，已经有三个星期不许孩子们踏出孤儿院的大门了。
萨迪克夫人说，在阿约迪亚，一个遥远的地方，印度教徒摧毁了巴布里清真寺。现在印度教徒和穆斯林因为这事在孟买发生了冲突，街道对于孩子们来说也不安全了。
但是祥弟告诉自己，新的一年开始了。
不再有商店被抢劫，不再有出租车被烧毁，不再有人会受伤。如果这些要实实在在发生的话，祥弟必须自己一砖一瓦地重建孟买。
他闭上眼睛，看到了一只红色的皮球。
在祥弟的孟买，孩子们在街上玩板球，击打一个红色的皮球。即使击球手用力过猛，球砸到窗户上把玻璃打碎了，也不会有人生气。几秒钟之后，玻璃就会自动修复，然后游戏重新开始。裁判是一个开烟草店的老头，即使他因为得卖香烟、槟榔和坚果而没法集中精力，他也有本事将比赛一个球一个球地在脑子里重新过一遍。投球手用一种奇怪的方式投球，他往回跑，根本不看球柱，就把球高高地抛上天空。击球手如果有经验的话，就会耐心等着球在一到七分钟的时间内落下来。当球落下来时，它急速旋转着，让每个人都眼花缭乱。
祥弟看到人们在庆祝胡里节，在一天或一周的时间里，人人走上街头，打着朵尔鼓跳着舞，往空中撒彩色的粉末，然后跳进彩色粉末里，身上也变成彩色的。人们最后明白了胡里节的真正意义——如果他们的脸染上了绿色，那么接下来的几天孟买就会呈现一片繁荣景象，男人、女人和孩子们都会轻易地解除烦恼。如果他们胸前染上了红色，就意味着他们会恋爱结婚。人们知道的所有颜色都会像朋友一样来到孟买人身边，人们也会变成它们的样子。
但是祥弟断定，这样的一个地方得换个名字，于是他就起了个新名字，大声说：“卡洪莎。”对他来说，这个名字的意思是“没有悲伤的城市”，他相信总有一天所有的悲伤都会消失，孟买会获得新生，变成没有悲伤的城市。
祥弟醒来的时候，他又振作了起来。
他走进卧室，看到了小普什帕坐在她自己的床上，头靠着墙，正沉重地呼吸着。她有哮喘病。有一天夜里，普什帕叫醒祥弟，说她要死了。没有人要死，祥弟回答，心里却很害怕，因为他也做不了什么。他拍拍普什帕的头，向耶稣祈祷，虽然他觉得在普什帕都要喘不上气的时候，祈祷也没什么意义。过了一会儿，他就只能坐在黑暗中，听着普什帕大口大口抽气的声音。
而这会儿，普什帕正捻着自己的头发，沉浸在幻想中，祥弟很高兴没见她不舒服。
……
The Song of Kahunsha
Written by Anosh Irani
Category: Fiction
Format: Trade Paperback, 320 pages
Publisher: Anchor Canada
About this Book --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abandoned as an infant, ten-year-old Chamdi has spent his entire life in a Bombay orphanage. There he has learned to find solace in his everyday surroundings: the smell of the first rains, the vibrant pinks and reds of the bougainvilleas that blossom in the courtyard, the life-size statue of Jesus, the "beautiful giant," to whom he confides his hopes and fears in the prayer room. Though he rarely ventures outside the orphanage, he entertains an idyllic fantasy of what the city is like – a paradise he calls Kahunsha, "the city of no sadness," where children play cricket in the streets and where people will become one with all the colours known to man.
Chamdi’s quiet life takes a sudden turn, however, when he learns that the orphanage will be shut down by land developers. He decides that he must run away in search of his long-lost father, taking nothing with him but the blood-stained white cloth he was left in as a baby.
Outside the walls of the orphanage, Chamdi quickly discovers that Bombay is nothing like Kahunsha. The streets are filthy and devoid of colour, and no one shows him an ounce of kindness. Just as he’s about to faint from hunger, two seasoned street children offer help: the lovely, sarcastic Guddi and her brother, the charming, scarred, and crippled Sumdi. After their father was crushed by a car before their eyes, the children were left to care for their insane mother and their infant brother. They soon initiate Chamdi into the brutal life of the city’s homeless, begging all day and handing over most of his earnings to Anand Bhai, a vicious underworld don who will happily mutilate or kill whoever dares to defy him.
Determined to escape the desperation, filth, and violence of their lives, Guddi and Sumdi recruit Chamdi into their plot to steal from a temple. But when the robbery goes terribly awry, Chamdi finds himself in an even worse situation. The city has erupted in Hindu-Muslim violence and, held in Anand Bhai’s fierce grip, Chamdi is presented with a choice that threatens to rob him of his innocence forever.
Review Quotes
"With understated skill, Anosh Irani tells such a darkly enchanting story of the abandoned children of Bombay that I felt swept away by their fate and entangled in the world's too believable cruelty towards the innocent. Irani's shocking tale unfolds with a macabre and terrifying beauty that is both heartbreaking and compelling."
–Wayson Choy, author of All That Matters
"[Irani] vindicates the fragile but triumphant scope of childhood imagination with touching grace."
—The Globe and Mail
"[Irani] rewrites Dickens’ Oliver Twist with his native Bombay replacing 19th century London. . . . Pure storytelling."
—Toronto Star
"Irani has written a gripping and compassionate novel that will resonate long after readers have completed it."
—Winnipeg Free Press
About this Author --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anosh Irani was born and brought up in Bombay, India, and moved to Vancouver in 1998 to become a full-time writer. He is the author of the acclaimed novel The Cripple and His Talismans. His first full-length play, The Matka King, premiered at the Arts Club Theatre Company, Vancouver, in 2003. His new play, Bombay Black, was produced in Toronto in 2006 by Cahoots Theatre Projects and received the Dora Mavor Moore Award for Outstanding New Play.
In an interview with The Georgia Straight, Irani discusses how the Zoroastrian Parsi community he lived in was affected by the riots: "One night the Muslims and Hindus had a street fight right outside the gates of our compound. At one point, they wanted to burn down a gas station which was right next to one of the buildings in which people of our colony lived, so people had to beg and say, 'Look, if you burn this gas station down, the buildings will explode. And we are not part of this violence.' Luckily, people listened, which is quite rare."
He goes on to express his admiration for the street children of Bombay and their ability to look beyond their dire circumstances: "A lot of these street children, when you talk to them, they have dreams. They are very poor. They live in grinding conditions, but they have very large dreams: some of them want to become doctors and find cures for diseases; they want to become movie stars, singers, dancers; some want to join the police force and bring about real change. They are all about change, because they know that if they don’t hope, if they don’t create some kind of dream, survival for them is going to be very difficult."
Excerpt --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prologue.
Without warning, the man rams the iron rod into the face that peers through the window. There is a sickening crunch and the face disappears. That must be Hanif the taxiwala, thinks Chamdi. The man stands guard outside the window, the iron rod by his side. He looks ready to repeat his actions should the need arise.
In the darkness of the lane, Chamdi can hear a woman scream from inside the blue shack. He imagines Hanif lying on the ground, his teeth smashed with an iron rod, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, while his wife bangs on the bolted door with her fists.
Chamdi is unable to move. None of the neighbours come to the family’s rescue. Most of the men and women return to their shacks, and the few that remain outside look just as terrified as Chamdi.
Chamdi stares at Anand Bhai, who stands rooted to the ground. Dressed in black, Anand Bhai looks like he is part of the night itself. Chamdi cannot understand how Anand Bhai can smile at a time like this.
one.
Chamdi runs his hands across his ribs.
He tries to push his ribs in, but it is of no use. They continue to stick out of his white vest. Perhaps it is because he is only ten years old. When he grows older, he will have more flesh on his body and his ribs will be less visible. With this thought, he walks down the steps of the orphanage.
He stands barefoot in the courtyard. He never wears slippers because he likes to feel hot earth against his feet. It is early January, and the rains are still far away. Even though a new year has begun, the earth looks old, the cracks in its skin deeper than ever. The sun hits Chamdi’s black hair and forces him to squint.
He stretches his arms out and walks towards a wall, where his world ends and someone else’s begins. As he nears the wall, he hears the city – faraway car horns, the hum of scooters and motorcycles. He knows Bombay is much louder than this, but the courtyard is not near the main road. Beyond the wall is a small marketplace where women sell fish and vegetables from cane baskets and men squat on their haunches and clean people’s ears for a few rupees.
Pigeons sit in a row on the wall and chatter. Spikes of glass are placed along the edge of the wall to prevent people from entering the courtyard. Chamdi asks himself why anyone would bother sneaking into the courtyard. There is nothing to steal at the orphanage.
A loud cycle ring causes a few pigeons to flutter away, but they quickly regain their places on the wall. The shards of glass do not seem to bother the pigeons. They know where to place their feet.
Chamdi touches the wall and feels the black stone. He smiles when he thinks of the moss that will appear. Rain can make life out of walls. But it is still a few months before he can inhale deeply and take in his favourite scent. The smell of the first rains, that of a thankful earth satisfied by water, is what he dreams about all year long. If only the inside of the orphanage could smell like that, it would be the most loved orphanage in the entire city.
This tenth year has been hard for Chamdi. He is beginning to understand many things now. When he was a child, he had many questions, but now they might be answered, and he is afraid he will not like the answers at all.
He turns away from the wall and wanders towards a well made of grey cement.
As he stares at his reflection in the water, he wonders if he looks like his mother or like his father.
He believes he has his mother’s eyes, large and black. Was it his mother or father who dropped him off here? He wonders if they are alive.
He puts one foot on the parapet of the well.
Bougainvilleas surround him. They are his favourite flowers. So pink and red, full of love, he thinks. If these flowers were human they would be the most beautiful people on earth.
He puts his other foot on the parapet of the well and stands tall.
He looks through the open window of the orphanage. Most of the children are huddled together on one bed. He can hear them sing “Railgaadi.” The girls make the chook-chook sound of a train, while the boys shout out the names of cities and towns at great speed – Mandwa, Khandwa, Raipur, Jaipur, Talegaon, Malegaon, Vellur, Sholapur, Kolhapur. There are so many places in India, Chamdi says to himself, and I have not visited a single one.
He likes how tall he feels with the added height of the parapet. Perhaps one day he will grow to this size. But it will still take years. And even if he does grow tall, so what? He will still have nowhere to go. There will come a day when he must leave the orphanage. But there will be no one to say goodbye to. No one will miss him if he goes.
He stares at the water in the well.
It is extremely still. He wonders if he should jump in. He will swallow as much water as his body will allow. If his parents ever come back for him, they will find him sleeping at the bottom of the well.
The moment he has this thought, he gets off the parapet.
He walks quickly towards the orphanage and climbs up the three steps that lead to the foyer, where the children’s rubber slippers are placed in a neat row on the ground and a black umbrella hangs from a hook on a yellowed, patchy wall.
His small feet leave dirt marks on the stone floor. He enters the sleeping room and receives an angry look from Jyoti, who sits on her haunches and washes the floor. She always scolds him for not wearing slippers. |
楼主: 墨涵
狗仔卡
楼主
显身卡
发表于 2009-9-5 08:49
不错不错，收藏了
