文字难度：★★☆
《赎罪》讲述的故事发生在1935年的英国乡村。13岁的布里奥妮·塔利斯想象力丰富,酷爱写作;管家的独子罗比在塔利斯先生的资助下与布里奥妮的姐姐塞西莉亚一道从剑桥大学毕业。一个夏日,塞西莉亚当着罗比的面脱去衣服,跳进池塘捡落水的花瓶。恰巧这一切被布里奥妮看见,她误认为罗比对姐姐心怀不轨,却不知两人相爱。随后,粗心的罗比把胡乱写的表达了自己对塞西莉亚的爱慕之情的字条误当作普通信件托布里奥妮转交给她姐姐,布里奥妮偷看了信件,看着上面的“污言秽语”,她的想象力急剧膨胀,认定罗比是色情狂。恰逢当晚,暂住塔利斯家的布里奥妮的表姐罗拉遭人强暴。布里奥妮武断地认定罗比是罪犯,甚至亲自作证,罗比百口莫辩,被捕入狱。坚信他无罪的塞西莉亚为此与家人断绝关系,离家独住,并与狱中的罗比保持联系。三年半后,罗比出狱,投身二战,而塞西莉亚和布里奥妮随后也成为了军队医务人员。长大成人的布里奥妮为自己当年因嫉妒与幼稚诬陷罗比一事而愧疚不已——其实布里奥妮一直暗恋罗比,而罗比选择了她的姐姐。她计划去法院撤回诉状,还罗比清白,并希望以此得到姐姐与罗比的原谅。然而战争夺去了罗比与塞西莉亚的生命。布里奥妮为此活在悔恨之中。小说最后部分设定的时间已是2001年,成为了知名小说家的布里奥妮追忆着少时的时光,感慨万千……
作者伊恩·麦克尤恩(1948— ),作为英国当代最为走红的小说家之一,创作了多部小说,如The Comfort of Strangers(《陌生人的安慰》)、The Innocent(《纯真》)、Amsterdam(《阿姆斯特丹》),而其中Amsterdam获1998年度英国布克奖。2002年发表的Atonement(《赎罪》)摘取了美国年度书评家协会奖。2007年,该书的同名电影上映,由英国当红演员詹姆斯·麦克沃伊和凯拉·奈特莉领衔主演,取得了极佳的口碑与票房。
本篇节选自该书的第二十二、二十三及二十六章。
On the first-floor landing, as she [Cecilia] was about to open her door, she gave Briony a look, a cool glance to let her know that nothing had changed, nothing had softened. She led Briony into her flat. Briony stood where Cecilia had stood, with her back to the sink and, unable to meet her sister’s eye, said, “What I did was terrible. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said 1)soothingly. “I won’t ever forgive you.”
“And if I can’t go to court, that won’t stop me telling everyone what I did.”
As her sister gave a wild little laugh, Briony realized how frightened she was of Cecilia. Her 2)derision was even harder to confront than her anger. At a sound, she 3)started. The bedroom door was opening and Robbie stood before them. He wore army trousers and shirt and polished boots, and his 4)braces hung free at his waist. He was unshaven and 5)tousled, and his gaze was on Cecilia only. As he crossed the room, he made a brief nod in Briony’s direction. “Excuse me.” Then heard the bathroom door close. Briony’s knees were actually beginning to tremble. So she stood by the wall, pretending not to lean against it, and watched her sister. Briony wanted to tell her how wonderful it was that Robbie had come back safely. But how 6)banal that would have sounded. At last she heard the click of the lock on the bathroom door. Briony moved away from the door, further down toward the darker end of the room. But she was in his sight line as he came in. He had half raised his right hand in order to shake hers, and his left 7)trailed, about to close the door behind him. As soon as their eyes met, his hands dropped to his sides and he gave a little 8)winded sigh as he continued to look at her hard. However intimidated, she felt she could not look away. The shock was how much older he looked, especially round the eyes. “So it was you,” he said finally. “What are you doing here?”
She said, “I had to talk to Cecilia.”
“Oh yes. And what about?”
“The terrible thing that I did.”
Cecilia was going toward him. “Robbie,” she whispered. She put her hand on his arm, but he pulled it clear.
“I don’t know why you let her in.” Then to Briony, “I’ll be quite honest with you. I’m torn between breaking your stupid neck here and taking you outside and throwing you down the stairs.” He did not raise his voice, though it was 9)straining with contempt. “Have you any idea at all what it’s like inside?” She shook her head faintly. “No, of course you don’t. And when I was inside, did that give you pleasure?”
“No.”
“But you did nothing.”
“There isn’t much time. Robbie has to report for duty at six tonight and he’s got a train to catch. So sit down. There are some things you’re going to do for us.” It was the 10)ward sister’s voice. Not even 11)bossy. She simply described the inevitable. He was staring at the flowers as he cleared his throat. When he began to speak, his voice was 12)purged of emotion. “You’re to go to your parents as soon as you can and tell them everything they need to know to be convinced that your evidence was false. You’ll go to a 13)solicitor, a 14)commissioner for oaths, and make a statement which will be signed and witnessed. In it you’ll say what you did wrong, and how you’re 15)retracting your evidence. You’ll send copies to both of us. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
And then, “It’s time to go.”
There was so much more that could have been said. As they were about to leave, he was holding the door open for the sisters. Once through the front door, it seemed to Briony that she was stepping into another day. There was not enough room on the pavement to go three 16)abreast. Robbie and Cecilia walked behind her, hand in hand. They walked on in silence.
They stood outside Balham tube station. They stared at her, waiting for her to leave. But there was one thing she had not said. She spoke slowly. “I’m very, very sorry. I’ve caused you such terrible distress.” They continued to stare at her, and she repeated herself. “I’m very sorry.”
…
塞西莉亚站在二楼的楼梯口上,正要打开房门时,她看了布里奥妮一眼,这冷冷的一瞥使布里奥妮知道,什么都没改变,什么都没能缓和。她领着布里奥妮进了房里。布里奥妮站在塞西莉亚刚才站的地方,背对着水池,不敢注视姐姐的眼睛,她说道:“我做的事坏透了,我并不指望你能宽恕我。”
“不用担心,”塞西莉亚安慰似地对她说,“我永远都不会原谅你的。”
“即使我不能上法庭,这也阻止不了我将真相公诸于世。”
她的姐姐狂野地笑了一笑,布里奥妮这才意识到自己对姐姐是多么的恐惧。相比愤怒,姐姐的嘲笑更让人难以面对。突然,吱地一声,她吓了一大跳。卧室的门打开了,罗比就站在她俩面前。他穿着军裤和衬衫,军靴锃亮,背带松垮垮地挂在腰间。他没有刮胡子,头发也乱糟糟的。他只注视着塞西莉亚。当他穿过房间时,他朝布里奥妮微微点了点头,说道:“不好意思。”接着便听见浴室门关上的声音。布里奥妮的膝盖开始颤抖。于是,她靠着墙站立,但又装作没靠在墙上。她看着姐姐。布里奥妮想告诉她,罗比安全地回来了,这太好了。可这话说出来会显得多陈词滥调啊。最后,她听见浴室的门锁打开的声音。布里奥妮从门口挪开,往房间另一端的阴暗角落走进一步。但他进来时一眼就看见她了。他已半举着右手,想要和她握手,而他的左手向后面伸去,正要去拉上身后的门。当他们四目相对时,他的双手垂了下来。他继续牢牢地盯着她,发出了一声急促的喘息。不管她有多么恐惧,她觉得自己都无法把视线移开。他看起来比从前苍老多了,特别是眼睛周围的皮肤,这让她震惊。“原来是你啊。”他终于开口了。“你来这里干什么?”
“我要和塞西莉亚谈谈。”她说道。
“噢,是呀。那谈些什么?”
“我干的坏事。”
塞西莉亚向罗比走去。“罗比,”她低语道。她把手放在他的手臂上,但他甩开了。
“我真搞不懂你为什么会让她进来。”说完,他转向布里奥妮,“老实跟你说,我现在左右为难着呢,是该在这扭断你该死的脖子呢,还是该把你拉出外面从楼梯推下去?”他没有提高嗓门,但他的话音中分明透出的是愤恨。“你到底知不知道监狱里头是怎样的?”她轻轻地摇了摇头。“是的,你当然不知道。我被关进监狱的这段日子让你很高兴吧?”
“不。”
“可你却袖手旁观。”
“时间不多了。罗比今晚六点得回去报到,他还得赶火车。坐下吧,你得为我们做点事。” 塞西莉亚这里用的是病房看护的口吻,腔调并不专横,她只是在描述罢了。罗比清了清嗓子,眼睛注视着那些鲜花。他开始说话了,他的声音冷冷的,不含一丝感情。“你要尽快去见你的父母,告诉他们一切他们需要知道的事,要令他们确信你当时做了伪证。你要去见一位律师,一位监誓官,然后作一个声明,并签上名,进行公证。在声明中,你要说明你所做的错事,以及你准备如何撤销你的伪证。你还得把这个声明的副本寄给我们俩。清楚了吗?”
“清楚了。”
接着,“该走了。”
本来还有更多的话要说的。他们三人离开的时候,罗比为姐妹俩拉着门,让她们先出去。穿过前门时,布里奥妮感觉自己仿佛踏入了新的一天。人行道容不下三个人并排走。罗比和塞西莉亚手牵着手走在她身后,他们一路上都默不作声。
他们站在巴勒姆地铁站外。他俩盯着她,等着她离开。但她还有些话要说,她慢慢地说道:“我非常非常抱歉,给你们带来了如此大的痛苦。”他们继续盯着她,她又重复了一句:“我非常抱歉。”
……
Now it is five in the morning and I am still at the writing desk, thinking over my strange two days. I’ve been thinking about my last novel, the one that should have been my first. The earliest version, January 1940, the latest, March 1999, and in between, half a dozen different drafts. The second draft, June 1947, the third…who cares to know? My fifty-nine-year assignment is over. There was our crime—Lola’s, Marshall’s, mine—and 17)from the second version onward [sic], I set out to describe it. I’ve regarded it as my duty to disguise nothing—the names, the places, the exact circumstances—I put it all there as a matter of historical record. There was a crime. But there were also the lovers. Lovers and their happy ends have been on my mind all night long. It is only in this last version that my lovers end well, standing side by side on a South London pavement as I walk away. All the preceding drafts were 18)pitiless. But now I can no longer think what purpose would be served if, say, I tried to persuade my reader, by direct or indirect means, that Robbie Turner died of 19)septicemia at Bray Dunes on 1 June 1940, or that Cecilia was killed in September of the same year by the bomb that destroyed Balham Underground station. That I never saw them in that year. How could that constitute an ending? Who would want to believe that they never met again, never fulfilled their love? I couldn’t do it to them. I know there’s always a certain kind of reader who will be compelled to ask, “But what really happened?” The answer is simple: the lovers survive and flourish. As long as there is a single copy, a solitary typescript of my final draft, then my 20)spontaneous, 21)fortuitous sister and her medical prince survive to love.
I’ve been standing at the window, feeling waves of tiredness beat the remaining strength from my body. I like to think that it isn’t weakness or 22)evasion, but a final act of kindness, a 23)stand against oblivion and despair, to let my lovers live and to unite them at the end. If I had the power to conjure them at my birthday celebration…Robbie and Cecilia, still alive, still in love, sitting side by side in the library, smiling at 24)The Trials of Arabella? It’s not impossible.
But now I must sleep.
现在是凌晨五点,我还坐在书桌前想着这奇怪的两天。我一直在构思我的最后一部小说,这本应该是我的第一部小说。一稿完成于1940年1月,终稿完成于1999年3月,这期间有六份不同的草稿。第二稿完成于1947年6月,第三稿……有谁会关心这个?我这59年来的任务算完成了。我们都满手罪恶——我、罗拉和马歇尔(编者注:保罗·马歇尔是布里奥妮哥哥的朋友,他才是当年真正的罪犯,而罗拉隐瞒了真相,事后她嫁给了马歇尔。马歇尔与罗拉的沉默以及布里奥妮的伪证令罗比含冤坐牢)都难辞其咎——从第二稿开始,我就着手描述这一罪恶。我始终认为自己有责任公开一切真 相——人名、地点、确切的环境——我把这一切看作历史纪录存档。书里有罪恶,但也有相恋的人。我整晚想着有情人和他们幸福的结局。只有在终稿中,我书里的有情人才有幸福的结局——当我离开时,他们并肩站在伦敦南部的人行道上。先前的几部文稿都写得那么无情。之前,或直接地或间接地,我竭力让读者相信罗比·特纳于1940年6月1日在布雷敦斯死于败血症,塞西莉亚于同年的9月在巴勒姆地铁站被投弹摧毁的事件中丧生,现在想来,真不知道这样写的意义何在。那一年,我其实并没见到他们。这怎么能是故事的结局呢?谁想要相信他们再也没见过面,未能相爱相守直到终老呢?我不能那样对待他们两人。我知道总有那么一类读者会不可自制地问:“可是到底发生了什么事?”答案很简单:有情人逃过大难,终成眷属。只要是我的终稿,哪怕只有一份打字稿留存于世,那么我那率性而幸运的姐姐和她那医生王子(编者注:当年罗比大学毕业,就决定成为一名医生)定会大难不死,厮守终生。
我站在窗前,感到阵阵疲惫袭来,将我全身的余力卷走。我喜欢这样想:让我的小说里的有情人大难不死,终成眷属,这决不是怯弱或逃避的表现,而是最后的善行,是对遗忘和绝望的抵抗。要是我能在自己的生日会上让他们如奇迹般出现……罗比和塞西莉亚依然活着,相爱如初,肩并肩地坐在藏书室里,对着《阿拉贝拉的磨难》微笑,那该多好。这并不是不可能的。
但现在,我必须睡了。
